


Can't We Just Fall?

by Bast_Sloan



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Confident Andrea Sachs, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:28:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 149,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23426995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bast_Sloan/pseuds/Bast_Sloan
Summary: Lady Andrea Charleston Amelia Sachs, heir to the Dukedom of Westminster had the world at her feet and lovers at her beck and call, but something was missing. With every touch, every kiss, every smile, something was always missing.Miranda despised the arrogant aristocrat, it was hate at first sight, but maybe, just maybe, they didn't need to be friends to help each other. A means to an end. Yes, that was all she was.Sometimes fear isn't the only thing that stops us.
Relationships: Emily Charlton/Serena, Miranda Priestly/Andrea Sachs, Nigel Kipling/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 560
Kudos: 860





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All the characters and places you recognize are the property of Lauren Weisberger and 20th-century Fox.No money made or infringement intended.

CHAPTER ONE

Andrea Charleston Amelia Sachs, only child and heir of Lord Richard Malcolm Alexander Sachs, current Duke of Westminster and the wealthiest of Britain’s aristocrats sat in a Starbucks near Broadway in Manhattan groaning to herself as she took a swig from her venti two shot low-fat cappuccino. She was exhausted, if not a little irritated. She ran her hand through her thick locks, a nervous habit that you would have earned her a quick whack to the knuckles from her governess for such unlady like behavior. The thought brought a cheeky grin to her lips, somewhat easing the tension from her rigid frame.

She’d only just arrive in New York from the UK mere hours before after supporting Oxford, her Alma Mata at the annual Boat race. She’d seen her father’s guards lurking along the Thames, no doubt ready to snatch her as she’d been ignoring his calls for the last few months, but years of eluding them had developed into a skill which she was rather proud of and within seconds she was out of their sight and on the first plane anywhere. Just so happened that the flight to New York was the only one not fully booked.  
It wasn’t that she was some wayward party girl, well at least not anymore. 

She had impressed everyone around her with her 360 degree change after turning 22. ‘A real head for figures and innovation’ her tutor had once said, ‘but lacked the discipline to follow through her potential.’ She smirked at that, luckily her parents spared no expense in ensuring that their daughter hadn’t ended up as tabloid fodder, she was kept from the public’s eye her whole life, only a select few even knew who she was.

Now Lady Andrea Sachs had tamed somewhat, choosing to spend her time travelling incognito, working in various charities and outreaches. Now she was focused on bringing Sachs International into a new era. In just a few short years, she had brought her family’s already prosperous and lucrative conglomerate to newer heights. Not only did they own the leading companies in tech and medical advancement, but they were also heavily involved in real estate, shipping, airlines and hotels. You name it and Sachs International had hands in it. Yet every now and again, the spark of mischief that lit her eyes amber refused to leave until it was sated. Which was why she currently found herself in this predicament.

Through the large pane windows, she watched the clouds roll across the sky, yet they offered no comfort or protection form the sun’s beating rays as it scorched down on commuters and pedestrians alike. So much different from the dark thick greys of the London skies she was accustomed. For a brief moment, she forgot her annoyance, but just as quickly as it vanished, it returned with a fury that marred her delicate brow. At twenty-seven years old, she could hardly believe her father could still manage to get under her skin. She tapped her coffee cup as she remembered their conversation after months of dodging his calls.

“Really Andy? Did you really have to?”

“Have to what Papa?” She tried her best to keep the smile from her lips.

“Don’t try to play innocent with me young lady, I can hear you smiling.” He said dryly.

She threw her head back and laughed, drawing the attention of the few stragglers that lingered about the coffee shop. She had the sort of laugh that would draw curious looks and smiles. A laugh that made you want to be in on the joke.

Across from her, a young blonde woman hadn’t taken her eyes off the brunette. The brunette lounging back in her chair with her legs crossed, seemingly casual yet possessed the air and confidence of someone who had the world at their feet. A grin on her lips that could make one weak in the knees an accent that made the heart swoon. Andy had learned from a young age to ignore the stares of others, but something compelled her to look up. With an arch of her right brow, she met the other woman’s heated stare with one of her own.

“You slept with his wife.”

“Hmm?” she hummed distractedly.

“Andrea!” Her father never yelled, but when he did, she knew she was in big trouble.

“Oh boy, here we go…” she muttered.

“I sent you there to secure the takeover.” His words were sharp and tinged with annoyance.

“And I got it didn’t I?”

“Well yes but…”

“Look papa, I went there for business and I took care of business. What Nadia and I had played no part in that.”

“It could ha…”

“Gustavo is a pig.” She interrupted him as her irritation started mounting. “He treated her like she was some airhead trophy wife. We started talking and one thing led to another you know. It just happened.”

“It just happened.” He sighed. “You’re killing me here. Now we have to be doing damage control so he doesn’t go to the paps.”

“He won’t. He has too much machismo to tell anyone that his wife cheated on him and with a woman no less.” 

She could hear her father rubbing his forehead through the phone as he sighed. “You really do need to settle down. This is getting ridiculous.”  
“Not this again.” She groaned.

“It’s time Andy. You’re not getting any younger and you show no intention of even trying to behave yourself.”

“I don’t want to…”

“Your mother agrees. So whenever you’re done gallivanting wherever you are, we’ll…”

She hung up the phone before he could finish, knowing she would get an earful about it later she threw the device unto the table with a loud clang.

So here she was, sitting in a Starbucks in New York, annoyance bubbling within her, so much so that she no longer had any interest in the cute blonde making eyes at her. Rising to her feet, she grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair, tugged it on then made her way outside, pushing her designer sunglasses up her nose as the midday rays pelted down on her. As she moved to the curb, a little body ran smack into her.

Oof! She heard as the body tumbled back. Her sharp reflexes reached out and grabbed, preventing them from falling to the ground.

“You okay there?” She righted the child.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t see you.” 

The girl couldn’t be more than eleven or twelve. With a mass of curly red air and the sharpest blue eyes Andy had ever seen, the kid was adorable. Her nose scrunched, as she appeared to be contrite, making her freckles far more pronounced. 

“It’s alright, no harm done. See?” She gestured to her body.

The little girl assessed her with intelligent blue eyes before giving a satisfied little nod. “Good.”

“Cass!” A voice shouted behind Andy.

The little girl who must be Cass jumped at the yell. “I gotta go. Sorry again.” She said over her shoulder as she ran to meet and identical girl a few feet from them. 

Andy smiled as she watched the two giggle between themselves. Oblivious to the world around them. Something about them kept her eyes riveted, even as they made their way down the road, stopping every few minutes to stare and point at various stores. A frown marred her features when she saw that every time they stopped, so did a haggard looking man in a black hoodie. Curiosity got the better of her and slowly made her way after the girls and the man following them. Something about him rubbed her the wrong way.

_________________________

Tony was a thief, an excellent one he’d say. Kidnapping was never on the list of thing he could live with. Drugs? Sure. Gambling? Definitely, but kidnapping? He wasn’t 100% on board with but his bookie and dealer had said this was the only way he could get out of the mountain of debt he owed. It was either them or him and he always chose himself. Someone wanted these girls. Who, he didn’t know and for what, he couldn’t figure out and by the look of his bookie’s eyes when he told him to do it. Let’s just say it wouldn’t have been wise to ask too much questions. He’s trying his best to think of them as packages, packages he would just deliver and forget about. 

Then he’d be scot free, scot free to be in the same position of debt in six months’ time. Their giggling froze his stomach solid. They were kids, he knew it wasn’t right. He knew it, but there was nothing he could to change it. Someone powerful wanted them, so if not him then someone else, he might as well benefit from it. So lost in thought he was that he didn’t notice the shadow lingering behind him. Lurking after him as he lurked after the children. He saw that they were approaching an alley; ‘this was the perfect moment,’ he thought as he quickly closed in.

________________

Seeing the hooded figure disappear around a corner after the girls Andy quickened her pace, not wanting to lose them in the crowd. As she approached, she could see one of the girls struggling in the grasp of the man, fighting his hold with a ferocity that stunned both Andy and the hooded man. Her twin clung to the man’s back, whacking him with her fists in a futile attempt to get him to release her sister. It was their screams as they fought that spurred the frozen Andy into motion. Not one person acknowledged the scene unfolding in the alley. She hooped at least one person had to the decency to call the cops.

“Hey!” She yelled stunning the trio. 

The one that bumped into her eyes watered as she begged for help. Using the moment’s respite, the kidnapper flung the girl from his back, shoving her to the ground as he tired dragging her wriggling sister out the other end of the alley.

“No! Please, you gotta help us!” The girl screamed as tears streamed down her face. “Please!”

Without hesitation Andy took off after them, she could hear the little girl chasing behind her, trying to keep up. “Fuck no.” She gritted, she hardly ever swore, she only did it in times of extreme stress or anger, and right now, she was furious. She looked beyond the man dragging the little girl and spotted a dingy rusted van, realization dawned as the anger rushed over her in waves. 

They barely made it to the van before she tackled him to the ground, hoping that girl in his vice grip wouldn’t hit the ground too hard. They rolled across the dirty ground, Andy pulling the red head and shoving her away from the man’s now loosened grip. “Go to your sister.” She snapped as she rounds on the kidnapper. The man in an effort to get away threw a wild punch, catching a distracted Andy under the left eye. She returned the favour with an elbow to his nose, feeling satisfaction at the crunch she heard and the gush of blood that flooded down his face. He screamed in agony, holding his pulverized nose as Andy rose with a roundhouse kick, sending him into oblivion.

When she was sure the man was unconscious. She turned to the huddling girls who watched her with wide-eyed awe. She approached them like wild tigers. Slow and deliberate afraid any sudden movement would spook them. She raised her hand to show them she meant no harm as she crouched to their level.

“Are you hurt?” She whispered, gently resting a hand on each of the girl’s shoulder.

“Just a little bruising, but we’ll be fine.” The one she hadn’t yet met said. Her lips trembled but she jutted them out, her hands were clenched as she forced herself from shaking. She wanted to be strong, for her sister who had tears streaming down her face. “I’m Caroline, and that’s Cassidy.” She nodded to her sister. “T-thank you for…” She swallowed as the tears threatened to fall.

“Aye, you were both so brave and fierce, wee little monsters you were.” She brushed the tears from Cassidy’s cheek and she gently tapped Caroline’s nose. ‘Wee little monster’ the name her Scottish mother always teased her with when she was younger and extremely little for her age, it brought a smile to her face. 

Cassidy reached forward and gently touched Andy’s already swelling cheek. She winced a little at the small hand on her face but didn’t want to worry the girls or make them feel guilty in any way. “Sorry.”

“None of that now. You’re both safe and that’s all that matters. Plus, ‘chicks dig black eyes.’” she said with a terrible American accent, a wink and an impish grin.

It earned her giggle from Cassidy and a snort from Caroline.

“That was really really bad dude.” Caroline smiled.

“Oh was it?” She gently poked the two in their sides, earning herself another giggle and snort.

She heard the sirens approaching; the cops were here. She swore under her breath and rose to her full height. She couldn’t allow them to find her here, it would be a PR and diplomatic nightmare to deal with. “Look girls, I have to go.” She saw them begin to panic. “It’ll be okay. He’s still unconscious and police will be here any second.” She leaned down and kissed each on the head. “Goodbye my wee monsters.” She ran off down the other end of the alley.

“Wait!” Caroline yelled. “What’s your name?!”

“Andy!” She yelled over her shoulder as she darted around a corner.

“What did she say?” Caroline turned to her sister with a frown.

“Abby…I think.”


	2. Chapter 2

Miranda Priestly, editor-in-chief of Runway, the flagship magazine of Elias-Clark and ruler of all things fashion, was furious and rightly so. She’d always believe that losing one’s temper was akin to a weakness of character, but in this case, hell truly had no fury. Irving Ravitz, Chairman and CEO of Elias-Clarke strutted from her office with the confidence of a man who was about to get everything he desired; and his desire? To finally oust her from the magazine she’d built from the ground up. Her blood, sweat and tears.

The only other thing she had loved with such pride were darling babies. No, that bastard of a weasel would pay. Her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed as she removed her glasses from her face, slowly running the tip over her lower lip as she contemplated her course of action.

The retribution needed to be swift and painful, of that she was sure. She had always known that this day would come and the one thing Miranda Priestly wasn’t was unprepared.

“Emily.” Her voice was low, but the redhead jumped from her chair as though she shouted across the room.

“Yes Miranda?” Her voice was breathy, as though she had run a mile, her frame rigid as she prepared for Miranda’s onslaught. She had seen the way Irv had left the office and knew that his smile could only be a result of pissing Miranda off, which would make the editor even more unbearable and unreasonable.

“Call Natalie Whittman, tell her we’ll lunch tomorrow at the Ritz.”

“What time should I…”

Miranda waved her away. “Bore someone else with useless questions. That’s all.” She turned her chair, staring across the Manhattan view. It was time to put certain plans in motion. She felt a shift in her office, the feeling she would always get when someone invaded her personal space. “I will not rep…”

“Mrs. Priestly?

She turned at the unfamiliar voice. Her brows furrowed as she watched two uniformed officers approach her desk cautiously.

“What is this about?”

“We tried contacting you, but your assistant said you were busy and wouldn’t put the call through.” One scratched his neck as he glanced nervously at his partner.

Outside Emily’s eyes narrowed at their recent hire. An annoying slip of a girl, who cared more about saying she was Miranda Priestley’s assistant than actually doing the job. The girl squirmed under the red head’s gaze, a look she mastered after working directly for editor for almost two years. “What have you done?” She hissed.

“I-I…” She swallowed as she peered into their boss’ office once more.

“Mrs. Priestly…” The other office began.

“Miranda.”

“Miranda. We need you to come with us to Presbyterian, we…”

She rose quickly; dread slowly trickled down her spine. “What? Why?”

“There has been an incident. Your daughters were involved in an attempted kidnapping…”

Miranda felt the ground shift beneath her feet and her chest tighten. “Are they…”

“They are safe Miranda, a little bruised but safe. But they want their mother.”

“Yes, yes. Emily.” She called. When she looked up, she saw her redhead assistant at her door with her coat and bag already in hand. Gratitude washed over her as she moved to the younger woman. “Cancel all my meet…”

“Already done.”

“And fire that…”

“Already done.”

Miranda nodded as she moved towards the elevators, the officers hot on her heels. Nigel came barreling down the corridor, slipping into the lift before the doors closed. “Nigel what are…”

“Emily texted me, they’re my goddaughters, of course I’m going to be there for them and you.”

She watched him before titling her head back with a sigh. “Thank you.” Her voice was small, almost broken.

He reached down and gave her hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. “Anytime.”

_______________________

“This way Miranda.” The officer led them pass the waiting rooms, into the examination area, where she saw Cassidy huddled into one of the generic plastic chairs found in hospitals. A nurse trying to coax her to talk to them, but to no avail.

“Cassidy!” She ran and grabbed her daughter into her arms, holding her as though she would be ripped from her arms at any moment.

“Mommy!” Her daughter held her just as tightly.

She pulled back to look at her. “Where is your sister?” She gently brushed her tears.

“She’s with the doctors.” Cassidy hiccuped as she buried her face into her mother’s embrace.

“Come my darling. Let’s go see your sister.”

“Mommy!” Caroline scrambled off the bed and jumped into her mother’s waiting arms.

The adrenaline that kept Miranda going, fueled by her desperate need to see her daughters unharmed, evaporated, proving illusive as the strength left her body. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t find the words that would encapsulate the relief and gratitude that thrummed through her.

“I’m here, Mommy is here.” She peppered their faces with kisses.

No one has ever seen Miranda Priestly, Devil in Prada, Bitch in Heels, the Ice Dragon, so sincere, so open. It was obvious that it was because of her daughters, but it was still jarring to see the drastic personality shift. Even Nigel, who had known her for twenty-five years, still found it amusing and surprising when she softened for her babies. The clearing of a throat broke them out of their little bubble, as Miranda muttered soothing and comforting nothings to her girls.

“Mrs. Priestly.” A woman dressed in a suit flashed her badge before pocketing the wallet. “I’m Agent Harris with the FBI, I know this is bad timing but we need to take a statement from your daughters.”

Miranda pursed her lips in annoyance at the intrusion, choosing not to correct the ‘Mrs. Priestly’ bit. “Must you do it now?” She snapped. “Can’t you see my children have been through a lot already?” Her voice was low and lethal.

“I am aware ma’am, but it’s best if we get it from them now, when it’s still fresh. Look, we already caught the guy. We found him unconscious at the scene, but we just want to know what happened. Then you all can put this behind you, okay?”`

“I-“

“We’ll do it.” Cassidy whispered, as her grip tightened on her sister and mother.

The relief was palpable on the Agent’s face; she really had no desire to argue with the formidable woman. In all honesty, the woman made her feel like an incompetent wet behind the ears rookie. Something she hadn’t been in a long time, but one stare form those cold hard eyes and a purse of the lips and her years of experience vanished in an instant, leaving behind a nervous wreck. Luckily, she was able to hide it behind bluster and bravado, but she wasn’t sure how long it would have lasted, not when the woman looked at her as if she knew everything.

“Are you sure my darling?” Miranda whispered with such care to her younger daughter, who hesitantly nodded.

“Fine, but I’ll not leave them.”

“Didn’t think you would.”

Within moments, Caroline and Cassidy relayed events of the day, from their escape from the watchful eyes of the nanny, a confession that gained the ‘I’m glad you’re alright, but you’re in so much trouble’ look from their mother, to their desire to go window-shopping in Time Square. Finally, they told them of the mysterious bystander, the one who fought off the scary man and comforted them afterwards. Fear gripped Miranda again as she thought of what could have happened, of what she would be experiencing now had fate not placed the mystery woman in her daughters’ path. She tried to quell the rising panic as she listened.

“Abby, I think her name was.” Caroline finished.

From the look in their eyes, their mother could tell the two were under a serious case of hero worship; the thought caused a smile to tug at her lips.

“Alright, as I said. That is all for now. As soon as the doctors clear them, you’re all free to go.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a crisp business card. “If they remember anything else or something comes up, feel free to contact me.”

Miranda took the card with a nod as the officers and agents left the room.

“Well that was something.” Nigel muttered. Miranda turned almost forgetting that he was with them. “Come on; let’s get you all out of here. I already filled out the girls discharge papers and texted Roy, he’s waiting outside.”

‘Thank you.’ She mouthed. Nigel raised his brows, two thank yous in one day. His shock gave way to amusement as he ushered the little family out.

______________________

Andy punched in the code for her private elevator, humming to herself as she ascended to her penthouse apartment overlooking central park. One of the first things she bought after earning the title of CEO of Sachs International. She winced as her cheek stretched, she would need to put some ice on it before it became swollen. She could hear her parents’ disappointed lecture. _‘Getting into fights like some commoner? Really Andrea, have you no shame?’_ Her father would snap while her mother would huff.

As the elevators dinged and opened, marble titles, granite walls and gold trimmings met her as she tugged off her jacket, throwing the genuine leather haphazardly on the floor of the foyer. Her shirt followed suit, leaving her lean muscled torso clad only in La Perla, she was in desperate need of a shower and food.

“It’s good to know that even when you’re not looking, trouble really does find you.” A voice rang out in the darkness.

She swore as the light flickered on.

“So unobservant you are. Your security is shit.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” She snapped, irritated at having been caught unawares.

Across from her, perched on the arm of sofa was one Lady Serena Van Visser, heir apparent to the Earl of Clancarty Marquess of Heusden. Even without the lights, Andy would have known whom it was, just by the distinct Dutch accent mixed with Latin American lilt gained from her Brazilian mother.

The two were inseparable since they met as babies, you would never see one without the other. Where Serena was a voice of calm and cool reasoning, Andy was hot blooded and wild, a combination only evened out by their sisterly love and the easygoing carefree attitude of Lord Cristobal Benavente, heir to the Marquess of Altamira the third member of their little group.

“Imagine my surprise when I received a call from Aunty, hearing about your sexcapades tittering about throughout the peerage.” She tutted as she watched her closest friend and god sister. “Must you be so reckless?” The amusement was clear in her voice even as she reprimanded.

“Let me guess, she sent you here to what? Bring me back?” She sniffed in indignation.

“Of course.” She leaned back and grinned. “But she knew better. She’s just worried and wanted someone to look in on you, make sure everything is okay. So tell me, is everything okay?”

“Nadia and I…”

“You know I’m not taking about your little fling. ATLAS has a handle on that.” She referred to a sector of Sachs Int’l. a team of hackers, attorneys, image consultants and security forces that monitored and dealt with any scandals or issues arising from or in relation to the family.

Andy sighed as she plopped herself into her chair, suddenly extremely tired. “I need some time away. I think I’ll stay here for a bit. Get my head sorted.”

“I’ll send for Cristi.”

“No, no. It’s fine…”

Serena shot her a look that caused her to snort. “Okay, okay. If you’re going to stay at least bring me some food.”

Her god sister smacked her on the forehead as she rose. “Chef Xiang is already on his way up.”

“Bless you.” She smirked, earning herself eye roll.

_______________________

Miranda entered her room after putting her girls to bed. The duo having decided to spend the night in Cassidy’s room were safely huddled under a fortress of blankets and much to Caroline’s chagrin, a night light. It had taken everything to leave the, but they needed to return to normal.

Before entering her room, she had quickly visited the fully stocked bar down stairs. She grabbed a bottle of single malt and a glass as she dragged herself back to her rooms. Making her way towards her balcony, she kicked off her 5-inch heels as she moved through the glass doors then leaned on the spiral grill.

She poured three times her usual amount and stared out at the view. It truly had been the day from hell. First, Irv’s self-righteous attempt to get rid of her, then her Bobbsey’s almost being taken. Yeah, it probably couldn’t get any worse. 

Nigel and Emily had handled themselves admirably. She hadn’t realize how much of a friend he truly was until he held her trembling hand in that elevator, choosing to ignore her misty eyes but still letting her know that he was there for her. She raised her glass to her lips and sipped.

She cursed the world, for its horrible timing, for trying to cut her down after she clawed her way up from nothing to achievements that only a seldom few would ever experience. For trying to remind her that no matter how hard she worked, they would never consider a part of their insipid boys’ club, not that she wanting to be a part of that particular brand of halfwits and privilege assess.

She sneered as her hand tightened on her glass, taking the last swig, draining the glass dry. Now that her Bobbsey’s were safe, she could focus on the task at hand. Her eyes narrowed as she thought of Irv Ravitz.

This was war.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. Here’s another chapter, stay safe and I hope you enjoy. – B.S.

Serena boarded her flight only moments before. Having one’s own private jet truly did have its perks. As the sole heir to not only a title but also an international banking dynasty, Serena much like Andy and Cristi had the world at her feet. Her father was extremely disappointed when she wasn’t quick to follow in his steps as the President and CEO of Visser Banking, but she had delegated the position to two friends from high school, the Makijanis and was confident in their ability to keep thing running smoothly why she pursued other interests. Sitting comfortably as the attendant handed her a steaming cup of Brazilian coffee, she contemplated her next course of action after her brief visit to Andy.

As the Chief Science Officer of Sachs International’s, there was a lot she needed to do before taking a much-needed vacation. And by vacation she meant making sure Andy wouldn’t find some way of getting herself into any trouble, or worse had them, including Cristobal who was currently halfway across the world, summoned to ‘the estate’ under the reproachful eyes of their parents, because once one got into trouble, they all got into trouble. Such were the repercussions of being a part of the ‘Riot Club.’

She rolled her eyes, god how she hated that name, yet found it somewhat amusing. Still it was better than being called the ‘Troublesome Three,’ an on the nose moniker they’d earned when they were only snarky prepubescent kids who hid from their governesses and tutors, who snuck out cookies and _‘accidently’_ dyed Cristobal’s grandmother’s precious corgi a shocking shade of blue. She snickered at that, the old woman still gave them the stink eye and clutched the little dog tighter whenever they were around. That all changed however during high school, when they’d attended _The Institut auf dem Rosenberg_ in Switzerland. 

They weren’t more than fifteen if she remembered correctly, when what the school still dubbed ‘the incident’ happened. There were students a year above them who thought because they were rich or had ‘blue’ blood they were entitled to do whatever they pleased, including bullying. There was no greater or more vindictive bully than those from the peerage who felt you were beneath them. Such was the case for one Preeti and Ravi Makijani, two lower school scholarship students whose wit and intelligence rivaled their own.

Suffice to say that the trio were impressed, but not everyone shared the sentiment unfortunately, and there ‘the incident’ began. A group of entitled assholes from Muller House, one of the many dorms on campus, who hadn’t wanted commoners to ‘show them up’, had constantly jeered the siblings and paid some of the teachers to fail them in every course. No matter how hard the studied or well they did, their papers and projects were always returned with an ‘F’ a ridiculous and obvious plan seeing as though the two were admitted solely for their academic excellence.

The trio were never one to involve themselves in school politics or cliques, preferring to stay amoung themselves and leave the twittering masses, but after seeing the injustice, they’d wanted to help and Andy and Cristobal had a plan. Was it to write a formal petition to the Chancellor on the two’s behalf? Nope. Was it to use their pedigree to strong-arm the teachers into fairness? Again no. One Andy Sachs and Cristi Benavente had decided that the only solution was not from any of the long list of reasonable and rational ideas Serena had sprouted, no, they had decided that the only way to remedy this injustice was a riot.

They had refused to listen to reason once the idea had taken root in their minds, shifting their eyes to mischief and glee, and so Serena had warily been roped in. If anything, she could at least keep them from burning the place down, and so the plan was set into motion. They waited until the teachers had left the campus for an all day workshop and seminar, paid off the campus security to turn a blind eye, shut down the entrances and exits of the compound so the teachers and administrators couldn’t return and rallied their allies together.

Then covered from head to toe in their house colours, Serena calling on her ancestors, had painted all their faces with traditional Viking war paint and armed with stink bombs and paint guns had marched on Muller. Cristi had rode through the corridors on his horse, screaming his war cries at the top of his lungs as he heralded the campaign.

The siege lasted a full day before the enemy surrendered with tears in their eyes, welts on their skins and a god-awful eye-watering stink specially concocted by the blonde genius that lasted months, no matter the scrubbing, cleaning or tomato juice used. She was particularly proud of that.

Suffice to say that after ‘the incident’ the Makijani’s were allowed to complete their schooling in peace, bullying incidents were next to nil and they earned themselves the name ‘the riot club.’ They had seen the amused, some would say slightly proud look in their parents’ eyes when they had heard why they did what they did, but still punishment was dished out. Their social life was completely obliterated. Cristi was banned from competing in his Yacht races for a year, Serena was banned from her academic competitions and Andy couldn’t so much as look at the campus gates much less exit them.

Yet after their year of exile, they were welcomed back in Europe’s social scene with open arms, and during the years following, anyone who was anyone knew who the trio were. Their reputation preceded them, they were exciting, thrilling, the life of the party, but no matter how close anyone got, and the riot club remained exclusive to the three. They were family, and that was that.

The incessant ringing of her cell drew Serena from memory lane.

“I’m going to the Netherlands first.” She said by way of greeting, already knowing who called based on the ring tone.

“Shall I meet you there?” Cristi’s thick accent crooned across the line.

Forgetting that they weren’t face timing she shook her head. Realizing that he couldn’t see her she muttered. “No, I’ll only be there a few days to take care of business. Meet me in London; I’m going there after I’m done. Andy asked me to do something before I head back to the States.”

“Si, Si. I’ll be there in a few days. Did you see her? How is the bicharraca? I heard about her and Nadia all the way en Espana.”

She laughed at that. “Same as always. I think we all just need a break.”

He hummed in agreement. The two then fell into the familiarity of conversation until the attendant mouthed that the pilot was ready for take-off.

“I have to go darling, we are about to taxi.”

“Si no problem. Ciao bella.” He finishes in Italian then hung up.

______________________

When Chef Ignacio Alejandro had learned that one Andy Sachs was in New York, he’d sent her a formal invitation to dine at _‘La Villa Reina’_ at any time during her stay. The premiere and exclusive restaurant in the heart of Manhattan was everything you would have expected it to be. It was exclusive, hard to get into, and expensive but the food was utterly divine. Having met Alejandro through Cristi some few years back, and the fact that Cristi had funded all of the Chef’s high-end restaurants as a silent partner, it wasn’t odd to her that he’d extend the invitation so out of the blue.

She had wanted to do some exploration, only having visited New York twice before and that was solely for business, she’d taken the Chef up on his offer for lunch. Pulling up to the entrance in her chauffeur driven Lincoln town car. In all honesty, it was her desire to try her best to keep a low profile, but her recently arrived security team had insisted on certain measure. One of which was being driven by a close range bodyguard while the others stayed out of sight but always within reach. How they managed that, she wasn’t sure, but she was grateful to not have a plethora of suits breathing down her neck.

Exiting the vehicle she moved with a clam ease, clad in dark skin tight ripped jeans and a simple light brown cashmere sweater, she was aiming for subtle and inconspicuous. A hard sell to pull off with her high cheek bones, amber jewel like eyes and cheeky grin. In the restaurant there was a steady hum of conversation, but as she approached the Maître d’, the hum stopped, as every eyes riveted to her, waiting to see who the stunning new comer was. She watched as his eyes widen a fraction, before he cleared his throat and tried to appear normal.

“Hello.” She gave him a small smile. “I would like a table for one please.”

“I’m sorry miss.” He cleared his throat. “We are fully booked for the foreseeable future and we, ah, don’t take walk ins.”

“For the foreseeable future? That’s excellent.” She nods, feeling happy that the chef had found success. “Tell Alejandro that Andy is here.”

“Chef Alejandro is busy I can’t-”

“Look…?”

“Peter.”

“Peter.” The lilt of her accent as she said his name sent a flood of red up his cheeks. “I am absolutely famished; would you truly kick me out and have me starve on the streets?” She turned away and sighed dramatically, a smile tugged at her lips as she watched him from the corner of her eye.

She was like the Sun. People orbited around her, wanting to desperately to come close, if only to feel her warmth but for fleeting moment. The lucky ones, those who she had entrusted with her loyalty and love lived in the light she exuded. Her easy smile, twinkling eyes and the roguish arch of her brow made for the sweetest spell, mesmerizing those on its receiving end, making them feel as though in that moment, in that brief slip of time, they were the only beings orbiting her universe. It was simple, one way or another, all those who met her felt some attraction and all those she left had fallen a little bit in love.

“I would never. I mean-”

“So could you please call Alej-”

“Lady Andrea!” Rung across the restaurant as the Chef in question running towards her. “I’m so happy you are here!” Even though he was now clutching her hand in his, his voice had not lowered. “You look magnifica. Spin for me Hermosa, kill them with curiosity.”

She hummed as her eyes danced with amusement at his antics. “You haven’t changed a bit Alejandro.”

“So have you bonita. Still up to no good I hear.” He shot her an impish grin as mischief radiated from his body. “You and Nadia, tsk tsk.”

“Dear god.” She snorted. “Does the entire continent know about that?”

“Si si, she was devastated when you left and the gossips loved it.” He said conspiratorially as he tucked her arm under his and led them across the room. “Come, come, I feed you.”

“No she wasn’t.” She said after a moment with a frown. “Devastated I mean. It was mutual. She said she was fine, I was fine.”

“Oh, you beautiful idiota.” He crooned affectionately, his teasing smile made her allow the slight. “That girl would have followed you across the world if you asked.”

He came to a stop at a table and pulled out her seat. He murmured something about a tasting menu and was off in a flourish, leaving her with slightly unsettling thoughts. Not long after, various mouthwatering dishes were set before her, paired with different complimenting wines. She smiled as she sipped her favorite red, ignoring the curious looks of the other patrons.

________________________

Miranda was on a mission and meeting Natalie was the first step in accomplishing said mission. Rescheduling the meeting to _‘La Villa Reina’_ wasn’t as difficult as others might think as she had a long-standing reservation at the restaurant ever since its feature in Runway had launched it into the stratosphere. So grateful was Chef Alejandro that he gave her a regular table that she could use on a whim. Strutting pass the Maître d’ she made her way across the restaurant to her usual spot.

She had given strict instructions, no one was to ever, ever sit at her table unless they were her guests. As long as Alejandro did that, he would remain in her good graces. The room fell into a hushed silence as the editor entered. Everyone knew who she was. Her icy glare and the imperious raise of her head brought chills to other patrons as they tried discretely watching the Devil of Runway.

She was stunned when she slowed to a stop at her table. A young woman was gently swirling her wine glass as she casually scrolled through her phone. She hadn’t notice the woman looming near her as she sipped, smiling down at whatever drivel had her attention on the device. Miranda cleared her throat, drawing the attention of the usurper. She was met with an arch of a brow as intense amber eyes slowly ran from the tip of her Zanotti’s, up her stoking glad legs to the hem of her blood red Prada dress.

The eyes slowed to a stop, lingering at her bust for a second more than propriety would usually allow, up to her slender neck then to the perfectly styled coif of white hair that rested on her forehead. The eyes then made their way to hers, capturing them in the most intense gaze she had ever witnessed. The usurper had taken her time in appraising her and from the way her eyes twinkled, to the slow cross of her legs and the smirk dripping from her lips, Miranda felt as though she had been stripped bare in the middle of the restaurant and was found very much wanted.

Andy took another sip of wine as she leaned back in her chair, eyes riveted to the most beautiful blue she had ever seen, yet the coldness directed at her was amusing to no end.

“Why hello.” She murmured to the new comer. “You’re not my waitress. Though I wouldn’t mind taking anything you’re serving.” She could see the woman trying her best not to roll her eyes, but her lips pursed in annoyance, _‘and what enticing lips they were,’_ Andy thought.

Miranda crossed her arms and glared at the offending creature. She felt like swatting her, anything to remove that self-satisfied smirk from her slips, a completely unnatural reaction for her, as she was always ready and equipped to verbally eviscerate those who caused her ire.

“What are you doing?” She said through clenched teeth.

Andy looked to her table littered with dishes, then looked back to Miranda as though she were slow. “Having lunch.”

“I know that you insufferable thing. I want to know why you are doing it at my table.” She snapped.

The girl frowned. “I assure you, when I got here it was empty.”

“That is beside the point.” Her voice became deadly calm and the once twinkling brown eyes narrowed, and so the glaring match begun.

Maybe it was the culmination of Irv trying to oust her and the almost kidnapping of her daughters, or maybe the 18-hour workdays she’d been pulling recently, but Miranda was not in the mood. She couldn’t muster even the slightest tolerance to deal with the woman, she was just another person trying to take something that was rightfully hers away from her. She knew deep down she knew that she was wrongly unleashing a Miranda hurricane on the woman, but this moment was the feather that broke the camel’s back.

“Get up.” She said grimly. “Get up before I have you thrown out.”

“You forget yourself woman.” Every bit the slighted aristocrat shining through.

Woman? Woman?!

“How dare you…” Miranda started, taking a threatening step forward.

So lost was the silver haired editor in the altercation that she hardly noticed the restaurant go deadly silent or the way the girl’s hand shot up and stilled the movements of the seven guards who had popped up from various tables across the room, ready to neutralize the threat to their charge.

“Your show of indignation at someone sitting at, your table was it?” Andy voice dripped with mockery as she rose to her feet. “Shows nothing but a personal weakness. I would get that sorted if I were you.” She moved towards the other woman, only a few inches remained between them.

Miranda’s nostrils flared as her eyes blazed, no one had ever dared. Within moments shock and rage passed over her face, normally it would have disappeared quickly behind perfectly composed features, and then she would throw a fleeting bored look at her opponent, her expression distant. It was something her ex-husbands and past lovers had complained of tirelessly.

Frigid and cold they’d called her, both in bed and in fights. Whenever they’d tried arguing with her, attempting to get a rise, she would just stare at them with a bored expression until they grew embarrassed and walked away, then she would return to things that were actually important. Yet in this instance, her blood boil and her skin itched with the need to lash out. Especially when the brunette’s eyes became haughty

Just then Alejandro came racing out of the kitchen, his heart lodged in his throat as he witnessed the two powerful woman, one more so than the other of course, but nevertheless he felt his chest tighten. “Ay dios mio.” He muttered as he rushed towards them. “Ladies, ladies. This is a misunderstanding; we can sort it out please.”

Andy narrowed eyes never left the darkening blue ones. _‘Huh, they had gotten even more beautiful,’_ a stray though pilfered into her mind. _‘Focus Andy, she’s an arse, you’re supposed to be mad. No matter how much you’d want to see if she is this fiery in bed. No! Stop it!’_ She chastised herself as her eyes started drifting down to her lips. She snapped them back up in annoyance.

“Thank you for the lovely meal Alejandro.” She said as Miranda’s eyes never wavered from hers.

“No worries, it’s ah, it’s on the house.” He had begun sweating bullets.

Breaking eye contact, she moved towards him, giving him air kisses to each cheek with a wink. He sighed in relief. Turning, she moved closer, barely an hair’s breadth away from the silvered haired vixen she’d taken to calling the woman in her mind.

Miranda could smell the sweetness of the wine and a hint of mint on the other woman’s breath as it blew on her own lips, the brunette had moved as close as possible without actually touching her. The editor found herself inhaling deeply as her heart stuttered over a beat. _‘What was with the foolish thing,’_ she thought.

“Have your table woman.” She muttered, taking an extra moment to glare before she strode off, ignoring the bystanders as they held their breath waiting for Mount Miranda to blow.

“Arrivederci Alejandro.” She called over her shoulder.

“Adios.” He weakly called back as Miranda’s gaze snapped to him. “I’ll have a waiter clear the table right away Miranda.”

Quickly regaining her composure, “Yes, you go do that. That’s all.” Her voice was low and sharp.

_____________________

Before leaving she stops at the Maître d’. “Peter.” She called and he quickly rounded his podium. “Who was that woman?”

“I can’t-”

She arches a brow.

“Miranda Priestly.” He finished quickly.

“Ah.” She made a mental note to find out who that was later.

Miranda sat down at the now pristine table, awaiting the arrival of her guest as the other diners returned their focus to their own food and conversation.

“Ms. Priestly?” A waiter approached her. She frowned, having already informed them that she wouldn’t order until her guest arrived, so she was at a lost as to why he had returned when the seat across from her was still vacant. She didn’t respond. Only shooting him a bored stare until he fidgeted uneasily. When he realized she was going to respond, he moved to pour a class of wine for her.

“I didn’t order this.”

“The, ah, the lady who was here before asked that this be sent to you.”

Her eyes caught the label and widened slightly. It was a _Musigny Grand Cru_. That usurper with the amber eyes had just sent her a $50,000 bottle of wine.

“She also gave me a card…” He pulled it from his pocket; hesitant to give her the brunette’s parting words.

She impatiently held out her hand. “Do move at a glacial place. It truly does thrill me.” The frost in her voice had the young man dropping the paper into her hand with lightning speed. In the most elegant script Miranda has ever seen were the words that caused her normally calm poker face to break and her brows to arch. There was no name signed, nothing to even remotely identify the rude, arrogant woman. Her curiosity was peaked and it was evident that Alejandro knew her, but something kept her from asking him about the mysterious usurper who wasn’t afraid to stand up to her. She found herself irked that even in the midst of her ire; she had found it strangely refreshing. Wide eyed she re-read it to herself.

_‘You need this more than I do. Maybe it will help you unwind and dislodge the stick stuck up your arse.’_

It was a fuck you if she’d ever heard one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. – B.S.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. Here’s another chapter, stay safe and I hope you enjoy. – B.S.

Andy shuffled through the papers littering her desk. She wasn’t sure how long it was since she was held up in her study. Food was forgotten, so was sleep, she only left the room when nature called, but other than that she would not be distracted. She had requested information on the Priestly woman from her head of security, and though the information pertaining to her personal life was brief and she could have requested a deeper search with ease, that wasn’t what caught the Brit’s eye. Elias-Clarke, the company that owned the silver haired vixen’s magazine was to put it mildly, taking on water.

Within a year or two, irrespective of the success of Runway, the company would go under. _‘How curious,’_ Andy thought as she went through the company’s accounts and holdings, red flag after red flag popping up before her, _‘how curious indeed.’_ Her eyes glinted as she emptied her glass of scotch, tapping her lip after the last drop touched her tongue.

Moving to search for her phone amidst the heap of paper, she typed a familiar number when she found it.

“Elias-Clark. I want it. See it done.”

She hung up before the person on the other end responded. A rush of satisfaction and anticipation raced through her body, her skin felt like it was buzzing. She hadn’t been this excited in years, she could barely wait. Within moments, her phone rang, a face time request popped up on her screen and familiar green eyes met her when she answered.

“I have to push back our return to New York by a few weeks, a month at most.”

“Why?” Andy murmured absently to her blonde friend on the screen as she returned to the numbers before her.

“There was an accident at the Berlin lab.”

This drew Andy’s undivided attention. “What accident?”

“A chemical explosion. ATLAS is investigating as we speak.”

“Why am I only hearing of this now?” Her brows furrowed.

“I just found out too, it happened only a few hours ago.”

“Casualties?”

“A few scrapes and bruises, no fatalities thank God. I need to get there to do damage control. Some of our samples were lost.”

“Fucking hell.” Andy leaned back in her chair, the paper work in front of her forgotten. “Do you think it was sabotage?”

“I can’t be sure, but it can’t be coincidence that it happened a few weeks before the launch, not after all the chatter ATLAS was picking up. I am told that viable samples were saved and the Swiss labs are secure though, so there is some good news.”

“But this will still delay the launch won’t it.”

Serena rubbed her eyes with a sigh. “By a few months unfortunately.”

“We need to triple the security there and in Switzerland. There cannot be a repeat of this-”

“I’ve already seen to it. I’m pulling up to the base now. I’ll call you back when I have something.”

“Be safe.”

With a nod, Serena ended the call.

__________________

Dr. Burkenheim was sweating through his lab coat, twitching uncontrollably as he watched the Dr. Van Visser, their CSO and current pain in the ass tear through her subordinates in rapid German that even had him wincing. The amazon was furious and rightly so. The damage done was extensive, costly and devastating to their research.

Only twenty scientists on the planet were privy to the existence of Sachs International’s secret project. Ten based in the labs in Berlin and the other ten somewhere else across the globe. Their exact location was way above his pay grade. He watched as she surveyed the wreckage, the fury rolling off her in waves that did nothing to dampen the painful beauty of her face.

He was privileged to be working with the genius and inventor of the very thing he was attempting to destroy. Nanotechnology, the first successful execution of the idea. He knew that when it was unveiled to the world, it would be revolutionary; it would change the face of science. His fists tighten as he thought of what he had done, but he had no choice, not after the mysterious phone calls and packages.

It had started a week ago. A distorted voice had called him, told him that they would kill his family if he hadn’t followed their instructions. They had pictures of his children at school and his wife at work for god sakes. What was he to do? He already worked so much that he barely saw them, he wouldn’t, he couldn’t allow anything to happen to them if he able to stop it.

At first, he thought it a prank, some twisted joke. Then his five-year-old Heidi had gone missing from school. His wife had called him frantically with tears and screams. Twenty-four hours, that was how long his precious baby was taken and then as if showing their power, they had returned her to her bed on the second floor of their house, a house riddled with the police, she had been sleeping soundly if not a bit dirty and slightly bruised. A second package had shown up after, and he, like a weak man had cowered to their whims.

So now, he found himself here. The Saboteur, the traitor and worse, he failed. They were still viable samples remaining. Samples that Dr. Van Visser could work with to replicate her experiment. It was all for nothing. His chest tighten as he thought of their punishment for failure.

He winced.

______________________

The next few days at Runway after the _‘La Villa Reina’_ incident was hell. Miranda was impossible to please, more so than usual. The workload doubled and busy became an understatement. The models for the Iceland shoot were all wrong. Too blonde, too lifeless, it was always one thing or the other. Miranda had fired the photographer with no other explanation than gross incompetency after she had seen the first set of stills.

In Nigel’s frustration, he was seriously considering scrapping everything. A move that would cost the magazine a pretty penny and so his desire was nothing more than wishful thinking on his part. The New York weather had drastically shifted from warm and sunny to rolling grays, stormy winds and almost constant downpours as though the heavens were mimicking the mood of the fashion magazine’s tempestuous leader.

Irv had essentially taken up permanent residence on Runway’s floor, he seemed to always be in Miranda’s office growling about, carrying on and complaining about the costs as if Miranda wasn’t one if the reasons why Elias Clarke was the publishing giant that it was. She was bidding her time with him, biting her tongue after every insult, smiling whenever he threatened to replace her, but inside? Inside she was plotting, her eyes narrowing whenever he turned his back and her smile shifting to one of cold, calculating glee.

After her successful lunch with Natalie, one of the more powerful directors on the board, she had secured an ally. An ally who could convince others to her side and then soon, soon she would be the one doing the ousting and one Irving Ravitz would regret the days he crossed her.

Miranda looked through her glass doors at her first assistant. She knew she had been running the girl raged, but such was the price of victory. She now kept the girl closer than before, practically in her pockets. As of late, they’d taken to leave the office at 2, sometime 3 a.m. then were back at it again by 7:30.

The young Brit dragged her haggard self to her desk each morning while Miranda floated through the doors like some immortal being who thought sleep was for the weak. Her face a perfect mask of well-done makeup and cool indifference.

Nigel had started worrying at his friend’s longer than usual work hours and had taken to working with her first assistant to keep her schedule and business running as smoothly as possible. The two were now exchanging nervous and worrying looks every time Irv stormed into her office, only breathing a sigh of relief when the insipid little man left. He leaned against Emily’s desk as she shooed the newly hired second assistance away, giving her instructions to do one thing or the other.

“What’s up with her?” He nodded at the editor’s office door.

“Bloody hell if I know.” She was rubbing her temples, trying to ease the tension from becoming a headache. “She snappier and colder than usual. Aren’t you her friend? Shouldn’t you know why she has suddenly decided up the ante and drive us all to homicide?”

He shrugged as he perched himself on her table. “We haven’t spoken in a few days. I haven’t even had the time to find out.”

“Nigel, I am literally running on one hour of sleep. One hour, in the last two days. One hour. Bloody find out man, so we can fix this and I can go back thinking of murdering her once a week instead of every few hours!” She snapped lowly.

Shock widened his eyes as he snickered as the redhead’s confession. The usually loyal employee always viewed Miranda as incapable of doing any wrong, but it was evident that a constant lack of sleep was pushing her to her wits end. He subconsciously rubbed his chest for the umpteenth time that day. The woman was really going to give him an ulcer he absently thought as his name drifted from her office. How they managed to hear her soft whispers was still a puzzle to him even after all these years.

“Emily.” They heard her call as well.

Shooting each other a look. The two entered the dragon’s lair with baited breaths. She gestured for them to each take a seat. Silently, they watched as their leader took a breath.

“I realize that I have been unbearable these last few weeks.”

“Of course not Mir-” Miranda’s glare froze the words

She held up her hand to silence her assistant. “It wasn’t a question.” Nigel coughed to cover a laugh at Emily’s red face.

“And I am sorry.”

If Emily’s face was red before, it not now turning an unhealthy shade of purple as she squeaked. “Wha…?’ Miranda Priestly apologizing? And to her no less? The lack of sleep was causing hallucinations now. She wondered if she could stop by the hospital on the way to Miranda’s Starbucks run. It was the amused gleam and slight upturn of Miranda’s lips that truly did her in.

“I would stop messing with her now if I were you Miranda. You might short circuit the poor girl.”

She hummed in agreement as Emily left eye began twitching. “I brought you in here to do something I’ve never done before except for my children. I will explain myself to you both.” She waited for the shock to pass before continuing. “Irv is trying to oust me and it is not like all the other times the incompetent little man has tried. He has something, something that is giving him the confidence to rub it in my face every chance he gets.”

“That rat bastard!” Nigel snarled as he rose to his feet. “Doesn’t he know that you are Runway! That without you this place would be garbage, no better than-than…Vogue!” He spat the name as if it were poison.

“What can we do?” Emily’s eyes had narrowed and her voice hardened.

Miranda gave the two a real smile, it was small, but it was real nevertheless. She was silently pleased at their anger on her behalf. “I’ve met with Natalie and she has begun to see things my way. She has agreed bring on her allies and stand with me against him and his band of idiots.”

“What’s in it for her?” Nigel was suspicious. He was always suspicious.

“She wants to be named CEO after he is kicked out.” Seeing Nigel’s eyes narrow further, she continued. “Natalie has…propositioned me numerous times over the years, even while I was married.” Not expecting that, the twos gapped at her. “Oh do pick your mouths off the floor, I’m not going to prostitute myself, but it will be easier to control her if she think she has a chance with me.”

“Well…” Nigel cleared his throat. “It sounds like you have everything under control, so what do you need us to do?”

“You…you have both proven yourselves to be my…friends?”

It was the first time Nigel and Emily heard her unsure and she was fiddling with the glasses in her hand. A sure sign that she was…nervous? Was Miranda Priestly nervous right now?

“We are.” It was Emily who rose to reassure her. Seeing the sincerity in the redhead’s eyes Miranda nodded, and then turned to Nigel who smiled at her with two thumbs up. She guffawed at his antics before quickly biting down on her lip.

“Enough of that Nigel, they’ll hear me and think me human.” She teased.

He grinned as he plopped himself back into the chair.

“I need you both to help me keep the magazine running smoothly. We can’t give the weasel any ammunition. No reshoots, for god sakes hire people who don’t reek of incompetency and keep Irv off our trail. Anything else and I mean anything that you think you can contribute my door is open.” When they nodded, she waived them away. “Now get out.” The harsh words were bellied by the casual familiarity in her voice.

“Oh and Emily?”

Her assistant dutifully turned to her.

“Maybe now the frequency of your homicidal thought towards me will decrease?”

The red head nearly swallowed her tongue as Miranda smirked with a _‘That’s all.’_ Once outside, they both walked as if under a daze.

“What the bloody hell was that?”

“She…she likes us.”

“Fuck.”

______________________

Cristobal snapped out of the soft embrace of his slumber by an incessant ringing. Yawning, he tried rising but a weight kept him pinned, looking down, he saw a muscled arm slung over his chest, while delicate feet were wrapped around his. A smirked as the events of the night replayed in his mine. There was champagne, wine and a full _‘night of debauchery’_ as his grandmamma would call it.

Lightly tapping the arm, the blonde haired man who it belonged to grunted before turning over and going right back to sleep. Then he slowly untangled his feet from the two ladies who caged him. Rising from the bed he stretched as the sun began to waken, littering the room with a warm orange glow.

His thick natural curls had gotten longer than usual as he refused to cut it, now it swished across his forehead and almost grazed his shoulders; his vivid hazel eyes were warm and inviting. His thick red lips that always stretched in a smile seemed to be begging for a kiss or maybe a bite, the olive tone of his Jordanian mother added to the natural tan of his Spanish father added to his appeal.

All around, Cristobal in all is 6’5 glory was a beautiful man, the sort of man that would make Michelangelo weep. He was built like a swimmer, lean, fit and muscular. His shoulders were broad, his abs perfectly sculpted and his hips slightly narrowed that gave way to strong powerful thighs. He moved to wrap himself in one of the hotel’s complimentary robe as he grabbed his phone and went to the balcony.

“Hola.” He murmured, voice still rusting from all the grunting and screaming of the night’s activities.

“Cristi, I won’t be able to meet you in London, not in a few days at least.”

“Why?” He sipped from his bottled water as his sister in everything but blood relayed the events of the day. “The launch will be delayed; we’ll have to reschedule everything!” He muttered in frustration.

“It can’t be helped Cristi and until we know whether it was foul play or just an accident, I am making this priority one, Andy knows already and she agrees.”

“Si of course. I’ll make the necessary calls, sort out the reveal and talk to the investors. Everything will be fine.”

Serena sighed in relief, now that they were each tackling the issue, she felt less burdened.

“I will just go straight to New York then. This is no reason for you not to take a vacation bella, Take care of only what you can do and delegate the rest.”

She hummed in agreement. “Message me when everything is done and your flight details when you’ve decided. I have a strange feeling Cristi, something’s not right.”

“It’ll be okay.” His hand gripped the phone tighter. Over the years he and Andy had learned to take the blonde’s _‘feelings’_ seriously. Listening to her during those times had always kept them from sure disaster. “I’ll double my security and message Andy to do the same. Don’t worry, everything will be okay.”

“I hope so Cristi, I really hope so.”

“Wha-”

“No you moron! Don’t do that!” He heard her shout at someone, no doubt some investigator mishandling her precious equipment. “I have to go babe, I’ll message you later.” She quickly mumbled into the phone before hanging up.

He sat there, lost in thought, formulating his course of action. He would need to text his assistant and get him to contact the coordinators, then he would need to meet with the investors, he’d have to leave Madrid tonight and- His thoughts were interrupted by soft breathless sighs and grunts wafting from the depths of the room

“Cristi? Come back to bed.” A voice filtered out and the Spanish aristocrat felt the blood leave his brain heading south with an urgency, his thought not far behind. Firing off a quick text to his assistants, he rose. He will deal everything later he thought as he pulled his robe, stepping over it as he entered the room with a grin.

Debauchery indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. Even the little things. – B.S.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. Here’s another chapter, stay safe and I hope you enjoy. – B.S. 
> 
> P.S. I wasn't planning on uploading one today/tonight but a comment from Jaycen gave me the little push i needed, so thank you.
> 
> For those who are curious how the photo shoot would look and where i got my inspiration for it, here's the link :  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s2MLIzEiEAU

Caroline and Cassidy Priestly hadn’t returned to school in almost two and a half weeks and to say the duo was bored would be the understatement of the century. All they did was homework their teachers emailed to them, eat and sleep. Even though their mother had been ecstatic and relieved that they were safe, it had quickly given way to anger and her daughters’ reckless decisions. Decisions that could have easily cost them their lives.

“How long do you think mom will be mad for?” Caroline groaned as she plopped herself down on her sister’s bed.

Cassidy shrugged. “I dunno, we really messed up Caro, we’re lucky we’ve only been grounded and mom said we can start school next week after Dr. Grant says we’re okay.”

“At this point, school actually sounds fun, anything that’s outside this house sounds fun. I’m so bored my brain is melting.”

“Yeah well the last time you were bored we almost got kidnapped so go read a book or play with Patricia.”

“You’re killing me here kid.” Caroline flipped over unto her stomach, burying her face into one of her sister’s pillows. “Do you think if we begged mom and gave her the double pout she’d allow us outside? Or at least let us play video games?” She rose her head to stare at her sister, her voice filled with hope.

Her sister shot her a look over the top of the book she was currently engrossed in.

“Yeah I thought so too.” She buried her face into the soft pillows with a groan.

It was barely midday but with nothing to do and her refusal to count reading as something to do, one Caroline Priestly drifted off to sleep, leaving her sister to continue in her fantasy adventure solo.

_______________________

Within the European headquarters of ATLAS a well known _‘secret’_ organization, affectionately called _‘the estate,’_ the sleek metals and advanced technologies that littered the walls and ceilings made the building resemble something off the set of some Star Trek movie. Amidst the evident _‘beyond their years’_ tech, the rooms reflected the warmth of tradition; well-crafted wood and antique furnishing.

The dual opposite designs in normal circumstance would be jarringly obvious in their clash. Yet the interior of the building melded perfectly with its two faces that melded to become one. Several almost paper-thin monitors and holograph images littered the main bullpen, specifically around the central desk that housed a massive projector.

The room was teaming with agents as various news coverages relaying the story of the explosion of a Sachs International lab showed on the surveillance screen that covered the entire expanse of a wall drew the attention of the ATLAS employees. They had dropped the ball on this one. Their sole responsibility was to protect the powerhouse that was the Sachs family, their companies, their affiliation and over the years, their coverage had also extended to the Van Vissers and the Benaventes; do damage control where necessary and ensure that nothing would jeopardize the dynasty.

“Where are we on Berlin?” Gianna Matalon’s crisp husky voice rung across the room. As the head of the elite division that even had government agencies envious.

Her dark skin was cool and smooth, her eyes glowing with the spark of intelligence was a deep chocolate brown. She ran her sector with the grace and efficiency of a queen over her kingdom, even as she nurtured her agents with a calming maternal hand. She moved to the center of the room where a holograph of the profiles of all the employees of the Berlin lab hovered. With a swipe of her finger she scrolled through, the images of each worker illuminated the barely lit room as she read.

Adalia Meyer, German master hacker turned chief of intelligence of ATLAS winced as her boss’ impatient voice whipped around her. She was typing a mile a minute, streams of codes running across the four screens that surrounded her workstation, yet she still hadn’t found anything concrete, nothing that would satisfy the impatient woman at least.

“We’re monitoring some chatter that it was an inside job, but who it was, we have nothing concrete on that.”

“How have we found nothing as yet? We needed this information yesterday.”

Dougal Frazer, the Chief of security and tactical operations, a former Special Forces soldier and French Foreign Legionnaire, pushed his mop of dark hair from his eyes as he leaned casually over Meyer’s desk “I have an agent on da ground. Lass said she kens a lead and’ll contact us if she finds anathing.” His thick accent still had the German straining after all these years.

“So nowhere then. You’re all telling me that we have nothing.” Her voice was bordering exasperation.

His eyes lit up. “The lass is the best, she’ll find something.”

“Where are we on the Elias-Clark acquisition?” She chose to ignore the hulking Scot until he actually brought something of significance to the table.

They hadn’t the time to be focusing on company acquisitions now, but her Goddaughter had called the head of the procurement division who then put in a request for ATLAS to investigate before a going forward. The man had seem nervous and jittery, a sure sign that one Andy Sachs was breathing down his neck.

“We have the files right here ma’am.” One of the interns popped up from behind her, handing her a think folder as well as a pipping cup of tea.

Sipping form her favorite mug, she skimmed through ATLAS’ findings and with every page, and her frown grew.

“Is this accurate?” She knew it was, but disbelief made her ask.

“Yes ma’am.”

“And Lady Andrea has been informed of this?”

“She was CC’d on a copy yesterday ma’am.”

Her eyebrows rose as she gave her full attention to the pimple-faced intern. “And she still wants it?”

“She said and I quote, _‘Don’t call me back unless you’re telling me it’s mine.’_ ”

“Well then, make the offer, but at the rate at which the company is going under, put the bare minimum on the table, then show them the projections of bankruptcy they’ll be facing in a years’ time.” She handed the young man the folder and returned to her two Chiefs.

“I’ll inform the procurement head now ma’am.”

_‘Come in, do…read me?! Come-?!’_

On the surveillance screen, picked up by their advance satellite feed, the image of the agent on the ground in German shifted in and out of focus, the signal was evidently poor. Everyone shot to attention as Gianna moved quickly towards the image.

“Boost the signal.”

“On it.” Meyer murmured as her fingers sped across her keyboard.

Within moments, the image shifted into focus, though there were a few glitches every few seconds. On the monitor the room was met with piercing silver eyes, her platinum blonde hair flowed down almost teasing her shoulder, feminine and dangerously beautiful. What drew their attention however was the light blonde hair was matted with blood and her once pristine white shirt looked as though it had been dragged through mud.

_‘Estate can you read me?’_

“We read you Agent Hunter. What’s your status?”

_“To put it respectfully ma’am, Germany is a shit storm. They knew I was coming.” She grunted._

“Who knew we were coming? Who- are you hurt agent.”

_‘Just a little scratch ma’am, I’ll be fine.’_

“Get down!” Meyer shouted. Without hesitation, Hunter dropped to her stomach as a slew of bullets rained over her.

“There is a nipper at your nine o’clock. Seventh floor, first window.”

Again, without hesitation Hunter rolled unto her back, arching just enough to raise her hand, taking the shot subconsciously. There was the distinct sound of glass shattering as the sniper fell from the high rise. She grunted as she rose, holding her bleeding side.

_‘Fucking hell, it’s been a day.’_ She growled to herself as she pressed on the wound.

“You need to move Hunter; we’ll have extraction team with you in ten minutes, stay alive until we get there.”

_‘Of course.”_ She wheezed as she stumbled down the ally. _‘Tell Dougal I’m not dead yet so don’t touch my fucking homemade apple juice.’_

Her direct boss laughed as he watched the agent who he thought of like a daughter grimace. “Aye lass, you’ll have to come stop me now won’t you.”

_“And Meyer, you still owe me that date.”_

“You have four men coming at you hot, there should be a door on your right, go through it.” She said by way of answer.

As quickly as her body would allow her, she ducked through, releasing a string of curses and rapid gunfire echoed around her.

“Go straight ahead. There’s a balcony, you’ll have to jump.”

_“Well fuck me then.”_ She muttered before taking a running leap from the balcony just as her pursuers entered the floor behind him. Their bullets missed her by a hairsbreadth.

Dougal smirked to himself. In all the years he has known her, he’s never heard her curse so much.

She twisted as she landed on the other roof, what little wind she had left in her lungs was knocked right from her. She grunted as she drew her weapon, barely able to inhale before returning fire, two crumpled over the balcony unto the streets below. The others had ran back out onto the street, jumping into a car and speeding off in her direction, hoping to catch her when she came off the roof.

“There is an old warehouse distillery to your right, use the fire escape to get over there, I’ll create a diversion.”

She nodded as she followed orders. Back at HQ Meyer mumbled to herself as she hacked into the vehicle of Agent Hunter’s pursuers. It was a piece of cake really, she cut the controls of the car, both the staring wheel and the brakes, then she secured the locks, no one was getting in or out.

Then against her darker desires that told her to slam the car front first into a concrete wall, she sped the vehicle down the main street, being careful not to hit other motorist or pedestrians, she swerved and whipped the car, making the journey as stomach jarring as possible. When she finally brought the car to a screeching halt, it was through the main glass doors of one of the city’s police station.

“They are off your tail now Hunter, ETA on the evac is five minutes away.”

Inside the abandoned warehouse, Hunter had found a half-empty bottle of vodka. _“I hear you, estate, I hear you.”_

They watched as she winced and lifted her shirt, popping the cap off the bottle then taking a quick swig before pouring the contents on the gaping hole. _“Motherfucker!”_ She took of her shirt, rolled it tightly and pressed it to the wound as she took another drink.

“Evac is almost to you.”

“What happened over there Agent Hunter?” Gianna asked, now that her agent was as safe as she could be for the moment. 

“I gotta call form an old CI of mine, he’d heard that a research facility was being targeted but he wasn’t sure which one. When he heard about the accident, he knew it was us.” She took a deep breath; she was trenched in sweat as her skin became pasty and ashen. “He have me a name. Burkenheim. Said I’d need to talk to him. When I went to his house, he wouldn’t talk to me. The man was sh-shit scared.” She slid down a wall far from any of the entrances, her gun in her lap with a few bullets in the magazine, just in case; one can never be too sure. “I told him what’s what, offered him and his family protection if he would just talk. I had him Gianna, he was going to talk.” She sighed in frustration. “They blew up his car, I managed to get his wife and kids out of the house and to one of our safe houses, I arranged for their extraction, but we were being followed so I played the decoy and led them away.”

Within moments, a team dressed in tactical gear stormed the building, guns raised and eyes sharp as they scanned the various rooms looking for their target.

“Evac has arrived Hunter, I look forward to seeing you at home.”

There was harsh raspy laugh as the agent was rested on a stretcher. Her eyes meeting her ‘saviour’ with a wink. Her laugh was easy and unmistakably fond, Meyer felt a warmth rush through her at the sound. _‘Home it is.’_ Hunter replied as she allowed herself to drift into sleep.

Hundreds of miles away in an office that technically didn’t exist, Meyer felt an answering grin tug at her lips.

_______________________

_‘Curiosity killed the cat,’_ was her father’s favorite mantra ever since Andy had taken her first steps, and then subsequently attempted to climb over the balcony railing. _‘But satisfaction brought him back,’_ she was nine when she’d learned that quip to her father’s chastisement and with a cheeky grin and the arch of her brow she was off to do god knows what. Her mother had nearly snorted her tea while her father rolled his eyes.

Dressed in stonewashed jeans, ankle-length leather boots and a Manchester United jersey, after all it was Champions League season, she stared through the window of her town car, having ordered the driver to circle the block in what had to be the fifth or sixth time. _‘This was getting ridiculous,’_ she thought as she tapped on the back of the driver’s seat, signaling to the ginger to slow down. 

She had no idea was she was so curious about the silvered haired editor, she was a right arse if she’s ever met one, but something was pulling her towards her, maybe it was her desire to one up the woman. To feel the satisfaction tingle through her body as she bested the silver haired vixen. As if summoned by Andy’s thoughts, the woman stepped from the building, onto the curb and into a waiting Mercedes, behind her van of the same brands followed loosely behind.

‘Follow that Mercedes Stephan.”

With a nod, the driver pulled the car into the New York traffic, following her mark until it stopped at Central Park. One section of the massive greenery was sectioned off, and in the private section was teaming with photography equipment, white tents and other extras.

“Ah, a photoshoot.” She waved off her driver when he attempted to get out and open the door for her. “Take an early lunch, but meet me back here in an hour.” She stepped out of the car into the sweltering heat of the city and with a tilt of her head she was crossing the street.

Her phone beeped and chirped, signaling an incoming message.

‘ _Where r u?’_ It was from Cristi.

_‘Cntrl Prk. Y?’_ Texting was one of the only times the trio could get away with abhorrent grammar and they relished it, milking it for all it was worth.

_‘Am @ the aprtmnt, but u r nt here.’_

_‘Y didn’t u tl me u were comin early?!’_

_‘SURPRISE!!’_

She snorted as she read. _‘Idiot.’_ She texted back and in rapid response, he sent the crying emoji.

_‘Can u fools stop spamming me?’_ A message from Serena popped up.

_‘SERENA!’_

_‘SERENA’_

_‘SERENA!’_

_SERENA!’_

The two bombarded their group text.

_‘I hate you both.’_

Across the city, the two giggled to themselves, before Cristi decided to put the blonde out of her misery and call Andy.

“I’m bored here by myself. I’m coming to you.”

“Wait! No!” He had already hung up. With a sigh and a roll of her eyes, she pushed the phone back into her back pocket.

As she casually walked past the security, who thought she was one of the models, She slowly made her way around the water fountain where models where dressed in various designs and styles of animal print. Across from her, at the largest tent in the vicinity, she could see a small crowd starting to form. Closing in on the tent, she heard the familiar words that had attempted to tear into her at _‘La Villa Reina.’_

“Do you find your incompetence charming? That must be it, because it is the only reason I can even fathom why you have chosen to take it on as a character trait.” Her voice was low and deadly as she perused a rack of clothing, lifting a skirt there and a dress there. With every piece she saw, her anger mounted.

Beside her a bald man, with fashionable glasses and a beautiful red head stood with disappointment on their faces as they scanned the clothes that Mirada had thrown to the ground. A team of young men and women who were on the receiving end of the verbal dressing down, winced with every word that left her lips. One even looked close to tears.

“Tell me, does Runway strike you as the like of Vogue? Have I somehow turned into a circus master overnight because my employees seem to be clowns?”

“I-I-”

This time tears had begun streaming down some of the faces. Andy had only just arrived, so she only imagine the tearing down they had been receiving before.

“Your excuses are of no import to me. You are of no import to me. I-”

“Aye, come now. That’s enough.” An unfamiliar voice, but surprisingly authoritative, belonging to a stunning slip of a girl with ridiculously beautiful amber eyes and devastating cheekbones.

Andy saw the precise moment of recognition when sharp artic eyes met hers. The exact moment the connection was made between the two. Miranda recoiled slightly, a barely noticeable movement for the unobservant. Her eyes widened and her mouth slackened slightly. She had just gotten that insipid girl from her thoughts and now she was back in live and living colour. The now familiar voice drawled in amusement at the editor’s shock.

That voice, that low mocking, infuriating, beautiful voice…

Auburn hair glowed under the New York sun as she hadn’t fully entered the tent as yet. Her dazzling eyes, shown as she leaned against a pole with arms crossed. Something passed between in the air between the two – it was pass realization, with quicksilver speed, the energy shot to recognition. Miranda completely lost her train of thought, her entire being zoned in on the infuriating creature leaning at the flaps of the tent, her breath seized as her nostrils flared. Everything about her screamed that her world had shifted on axis, twisting until it was far from the original, only to shoot right back into place, realigning and settling. The feeling was unfamiliar to the editor and she did not like it one bit. For a second, anger left her body and was replaced with obsessive curiosity.

Artic ice blazed, as she took in the woman, she drunk in every ounce of detail she had missed at the restaurant, when her only desire was to cut down the usurper. She was achingly beautiful, all artful dishevelment and aristocratic lines and lazy strength, a heart stopping easy smile.

_‘_ _Well shit.’_ Rung through the editors mind as she shook her head slightly, attempting to dislodge the traitorous thoughts.

“You!” she snapped.

The girl flashed her a winning smile. “Me,” she agreed.

Miranda pauses in her tearing down of her minions to focus her sole undivided attention on the usurper. “What did you say?” She had quickly regained her composure and her voice was barely a whisper.

Choosing to ignore the warning tone in the other woman’s voice, she pressed on. After all, she had always been one to toe the line. “You sharp tongue and sarcastic barbs are evidently well honed enough that I know you do not need the motivation of live targets to further master your skills. Give the children a break won’t you, they’re crying.” Her tone was light and friendly, but it did nothing to take away the reproach from her words.

Nigel and Emily gaped.

“And you are?” Miranda’s eyes narrowed to slits as she pursed her lips. The whole tent just about died, but the usurper seemed unaffected. She was using _‘that’_ voice. The voice that sent her underlings scurrying and even her bosses in a nervous hasty retreat.

The usurper just smiled, her eyes crinkling and it almost as if they were glowing. She ignored the displeasure clearly marring the older woman’s face. She ignored the worrying glances of the bald man and the red head or the minions who had hastily retreated to the corners of the tent.

“Andy.”

“Well Ashley-”

“Andy, that is my name and you will use it. Andrea is my full name if you prefer it.”

The two stood staring in a battle of wills.

“Look you vile usurper.” Andy smirked at this. “I didn’t realize that the world revolves around you. My apologies, how silly of me.”

“A common mistake I’m sure a woman of intelligence such as yourself will surely remedy with speed and efficiency.” Andy pushed herself from the pole and slowly made her way towards the other woman. “Tell me something; do you get off on tormenting your little minions, hmm? Do you get off on a little pain? Because my safe word is apples if you’re interested.” The smug smirk finally did Miranda in.

Behind her, the dull thud of a phone and folders as it hit the floor was the only noise that broke the deathly silence of the tent. Wide-eyed Emily didn’t even notice that her hands had loosened around the things.

“I never debase myself and engage with idiots but in your case I’ll make an exception.”

Nigel snorted, quickly disguising it as a cough when Miranda glared at him. Turning back to the wretched woman, she paused. Something about those all-too-knowing gold eyes gave Miranda the unnerving sensation that she was being read like a book, and suddenly she wanted to lash out— to be anywhere but here under those eyes that see too much. The words are out before she could stop them.

“You’re here as what? A model?” She didn’t know why the woman suddenly looked pleased, but she carried on. “If you wish to work in the city _, MY_ city or anywhere on the planet with a Runway circulation, I would advise you to not utter another word or you’ll be flipping burgers at some no name hole in the wall by tomorrow.” She bit lowly.

It was a threat, and poorly disguised one at that. Tent had become suffocating, the tension was palpable and thick. Everyone wanted to run out but each were scared to make the first move. The two were now standing so close that they were almost touching. They seemed to gravitate to each other even in anger.

“Word.” Andy whispered to the woman.

Miranda’s mind goes entirely blank at the captivating eyes danced with mischief, daring her. Again, even in the midst of this, she found a slither of amusement at the young woman’s brass threatening to shine through. Her attempts to conceal it seemed to be in vain, as brown eyes gleamed with victory, albeit a small one.

Miranda scowled. Soon enough the word would spread across Elias-Clark about the mysterious model, who had defended some clackers and survived a verbal sparring match with the Devil herself. The quite confidence in the woman gait, the steely command of her voice that wasn’t mellowed by the amusement that caused her accent to thicken. They had met each other’s gaze unflinching, daring the other to say _‘uncle.’_

“Miranda!” The models for the next shoot are missing!” Demarchelier distressed voice entered the room before the man. He was rattling off in French and about schedules, deadlines and like Miranda, incompetent workers. It was if the man was impervious to the tension in the room as he rattled off to Miranda before his eyes landed on Andy. “Oi, there you are foolish girl, we have been waiting hours!” He exaggerated, pulling her with him as he exited the tent, deaf to her protests. “Who did your makeup?”

“I’m not wearing any.”

This brought the man up short. “Ah, a natural beauty, magnifique. Come we must get you to hair and makeup now! And we need to get you out of that horrid shirt.”

Andy was affronted at the insult of one of her favorite teams. Within moments, Andy was stripped, redressed and pushed in front of the cameras by unknown hands.

“The theme is fun and casual, mysterious and sexy. Now come darling, the camera loves you!”

Andy shrugged to herself and thought, _‘why not?’_ And so she did just that. She was fun and quirky and sexy, her soulful eyes made her mysterious and captivating. Around her _‘I Love You So’_ by jam Xpress blared and Andy found her second wing with a laugh as Demarchelier joked with her. Her carefree lightness drew the attention of every eye on set as they watched the Auburn hair beauty truly enjoy herself.

“Andy you dirty little slut.” A voice called out beside the photographer. The words belied by the fondness and amusement that laced it.

Shielding her eyes from the sun, she squealed and ran when she saw who it was.

“Cristi!”

“Andy baby!” He caught her as she jumped, spinning her around as she hugged him tightly. “It’s only been a few months you psycho.” He murmured.

He had been away on Yacht competition where he had to essentially sail across the world, he’d won of course. Neither Andy nor Serena had seen him since they’d seen him off at port.

“Yes well I missed you.” She murmured back. He grinned as he kissed her forehead.

“Such a beautiful boy. You are the other model yes?’ We have been waiting for ages. Quickly hair and makeup now.”

Nigel watched as the newcomer came and swept that Andy girl off her feet and he felt an envious sigh leave his body. He agreed with Demarchelier, he really was a beautiful man. Boys like that had been breaking his heart since 1989, but that never from stopped him from falling headfirst brain last before.

“Can you believe what just happened Nige?” Emily tittered beside him.

“Hmmm?’

“Nigel!”

“What?!”

“I thought I lost you there. Wipe your chin, you’re drooling.”

His hand subconsciously shot up and when it came away dry, he narrowed his eyes at her. “Oh you’ll pay for that Ms. Charlton.”

Emily chuckled as her gaze returned to the two models shoot. The had taken the theme carefree and having fun, mysterious and sexy to a whole new level. They made a truly striking pair and in the same pictures, they would seize the hearts of many a bisexuals. She elbowed Nigel and when he turned to her, mildly irritated at her ruining his show, she nodded over to Miranda. The editor’s eyes was riveted to the two, specifically to the auburn hair, golden-eyed usurper.

Every time the gorgeous man would touch her, or hold her, the girl would laugh at something he said, Miranda’s eyes would narrow and her fists would clench. Nigel snorted to himself when he realized his silver haired friend didn’t even realize.

“Someone has a crush.” His snort turned into a full laugh that had Emily smacking him to keep quite.

“What do you mean a crush? They were tearing into each other a few minutes ago. I’m still not even sure how the girl is alive much less still modeling for Runway.”

“That my dear was Miranda’s twisted way of flirty, at least I think so. The poor thing doesn’t even realize.”

“Well you better not say anything. We don’t have the time for her to be distracted right now.”

“Relax Ems, you’re too uptight. Let her have her fun. It’ll keep her from scaring the clackers or _‘making the children cry.’_ ”

“Yes, well.” She snorted. “That was pretty brutal to watch, but I couln’t tear my eyes away.”

“That.” He pointed to Miranda then to the girl. “Will end either in homicide, or a serious angry fuck.”

“Nigel!” She whacked him on the arm again as she giggled

“Am I wrong?”

Emily watched her boss and …friend? Her lips were pursed, her fists were clenched and she watched the two as if she didn’t know who to kill fist. “Not at all.”

_______________

“Who is that sexy man over there watching us?” Cristi murmmered in Andy ear as he held her from behind.

“Who?”

“Him.” He nodded to where the bald man giggled away with the red head.

“Not sure. I know he works at Runway though.”

“Hmmm.”

“Cristobal, don’t you dare.”

“What?” His voice was innocent. Too innocent.

“You know what. I’m not one to talk. Just be careful.”

“Aren’t I always bella?”

He winked at Andy who flicked him on the forehead.

“Are we going to address the woman who is staring at us with death in her eyes?”

Without looking over Andy already knew whom he spoke. “Ah Miranda, the editor. I told you about the woman at Alejandro’s, well that’s her and then we got into it

earlier on. I think she has it out for me now.”

“And why does that amuse you.”

“Her eyes light up when she’s mad, and she does this thing with her nose.” She shrugged. “I like teasing her.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“You like her.”

“I most certainly do not. The only feeling between us is hate I can assure you. She is self-centered, egotistical, mean and a right-”

“Bitch?”

She grabbed his ear and pulled. Cristi winced and groaned as she brought his 6’5 frame to her level. “None of that Cristobal.” Before releasing his burning appendage. Demarchelier yelled at them to settle down.

“Very defensive about someone you hate.”

“Yes well, shut up.” She rolled her eyes at her grinning pseudo brother.

_____________________

The shoot was wrapping up, the photographers satisfied with the work had decided to end a bit earlier.

“Hey!” A heavily accented voice broke Nigel out of his musings. Spanish if his ear wasn’t deceiving him.

He turned and was met with hazel eyes and pouty lips.

“Have dinner with me tomorrow.” His voice was deep, calming and beyond sexy. “Say yes.”

Nigel could barely stand much less answer the poor man. His eyes had remained wide but his body including his tongue had frozen up.

“Give me your phone hermoso.”

For years to come Nigel would swear that he didn’t remember how he managed to take the phone out of his pocket and thrust it at the other man. Cristi took it and typed quickly before tucking the device back into the well dressed man’s front pocket. “There you have my number, text me your address, I’ll pick you up at eight, Si?”

Nigel’s head jerked in shock, which caused the other man to laugh. Dear god, Nigel swooned. 

“Don’t forget.”

As if he ever would.

“I’m Cristi by the way.”

Nigel’s tongue still refused to work.

“Ah, a man of mystery. I love it.” Cristi moved towards hi, and pressed a chaste but full kiss to his cheek. “Until tomorrow misterioso.” Then with an arch of that perfectly sculpted brow, he was off.

“Dear god.” Nigel gasped as his heart stuttered back up after a few moments, then a blush rushed up his face in embarrassment. “That boy is gonna break my heart.”

________________________

“Miranda a moment please.” Nigel popped his head into her office.

She waved him in.

“I know you, and I know you are thinking of scraping the shoot.”

Her eyes darkened at the mention of the shoot.

“But before you do I want you take a look at these.” He laid some of the pictures on her desk.

Even in her anger, she had to admit, they were breath taking.

“And look at this, one of the interns videoed it while they were shooting. We’re thinking of posting it on the website and all our social media.”

He pulled up his email on her laptop and played the video the minion had sent him. He and Miranda sat there mesmerized at the compilation video of first Andy’s solo shoot then her and Cristi and finally Cristi alone. Those two could make them millions.

“Think about it okay? This will amp up or readership, not that we need it but it would be a stick it to Irv, right?”

With a sigh, she threw her glasses to her desk. The usurper was infuriating, but looking at the finished product, she was truly breath taking. “Fine, start the mock up and do the upload or whatever it’s called.”

“Fantastic.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. – B.S.
> 
> For those who are curious how the photo shoot would look and where i got my inspiration for it, here's the link :  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s2MLIzEiEAU


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. Here’s another chapter, stay safe and I hope you enjoy. – B.S.

At 7:15 p.m., Nigel blazed across his apartment in nothing but socks and underwear as he tried picking the perfect outfit. His body was surprisingly well fit and toned, kept in tiptop shape if you asked him. _‘Dammit, I do this for a living!’_ he snapped at himself after a record of fifteen going on sixteen changes. If he didn’t hurry he would be late and he hated making bad first impressions.

Quickly, as his frustration mounted, he tore a deep purple Marc Jacobs blazer from its wrack, tugging it on over his black YSL silk button down. After finally getting dressed, he spritzed himself with cologne, a gift from Miranda. 7:50, his watch read, he took a deep breath as he stared at the window in his foyer. Pleased at the image that greeted him, he smiled with a nod. He knew his date would be thoroughly impressed.

Nigel paced the landing of his flat, it was 8:30 p.m. and his nerves had long given way to embarrassment. He’d received no call, no text, nothing, at this point he’d have taken a smoke signal, anything. He ran his hand down his blazer, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles.

He should have known better, the thoughts like an ugly, vile thing wrapped itself around his mind as it fed on his insecurities. Surely, he was overreacting, maybe Cristi was hurt or injured somewhere, yes, yes that had to be it, he was lying in a ditch somewhere dying, _‘or maybe you’re just an idiot Nigel, you said it yourself, that boy breaks hearts.’_

Tugging of his jacket at quarter to nine, he slipped his feet from his suede Italian loafers, _‘there should be some ice cream in the fridge from my last break up,’_ he thought as he made his way to the kitchen. His doorbell chimed, Nigel froze. Again, it rung, but the art director still hadn’t moved, the buzzing was constant now, as whoever it was refused to leave.

Against his better judgement, he buzzes the person up. He hadn’t even asked who it was. Within moments, the buzzing gave way to rapid knocking. Nigel was furious, it was nine and the Spaniard hadn’t even the common curtesy to send a damn SOS. He swung the door open, channeling his inner Miranda, sharp barbs and displeasure was at the tip of his tongue.

“How dar-”

The words died on his lips. Before him was one Cristobal, dressed to the nines in a stunning fitted light purple suit, diamond studs in his ears that matched the diamond cufflinks that glistened from his shirt and was that a touch of eyeliner? It was a subtle touch but it accented his hazel eyes with a ferocity that turned knees into puddles and thoughts into jumbled messes. With his purposely-disheveled hair and big pleading eyes, Nigel knew he would forgive him anything…but he didn’t need to know that. Nigel arched his brow as he waited for the explanation.

“I can explain hermoso.” He fiddled with one of his rings as he carried on. “I wanted to pick you up myself Si, but then the maldito GPS crashed and I got lost.” The more he explained, the faster he sprouted the words and thicker his accent became, at one point he had fully transitioned to Spanish as he prattled of, a faint blush blooming on his cheeks. “Lo siento, believe me.” He took a slightly crumbled rose from behind it and handed to his date with hopeful eyes. “Forgive me?”

Nigel squinted as he watched the younger man, sighing to himself, he took the charming flower, why delay the inevitable. Once the flower was in his hand Crist’s face dissolved from worried to a blinding smile as he sighed in relief.

“Aye dios, were you going to make me ramble like an idioto?”

Nigel grinned as he pressed his rose to his nose and inhaled deeply. “Maybe.”

“Come, tell me your favorite place to eat and I will take you there.” He reached for the man’s hand.

“Wait, I have to put this in some water and get my jacket…and shoes.” He wiggled his toes to show Cristi he was barefoot.

“Si Si, no problemo.” He followed him inside the flat. He heard Nigel tinkering around a corner and when he returned, he had on his blazer and the flower was now home in crystal vase. Slipping on his shoes, Nigel made his was towards the door, gesturing for Cristi to follow, he turned and locked up.

“You look very handsome by the way.” A voice whispered by the art director’s ear. He turned sharply as Cristi pressed a kiss to his cheek. With a wink, he grabbed his hand and tugged him forward. “Come, I feed you.”

The journey to Nigel’s favorite Italian restaurant in Brooklyn was silent. A calm silence, the one you’d only experience when you were truly comfortable around another. When the pulled up the entrance, Cristi’s brows rose. It was small hole in the wall, a place a would be missed if it wasn’t already known to be there. He had never really experienced such things, always fine dining, always and the best of the best for the heir of Altamira. Surprisingly, he was looking forward to it, though he was obviously skeptical and apprehensive.

“Are you sure about this place misterio?”

“It doesn’t look like much but the food is to die for.” He snickered to himself when he was the apprehension on his date’s face, a snicker that turned into a full laugh when Cristi subconsciously reached for his stomach. “Is the big strong man scared?”

Cristi poked him the side playfully. “When it comes to food poisoning, definitely.”

“Come on, I promise you, it’s not bad. It’s my guilty pleasure.”

Cristi reached and grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket, he wasn’t even upset that his couture was being manhandled, in fact, this man could handle him anytime. He tugged him towards him, bending slightly, Cristi whispered in his ear. “Oh? And when do I get to become your guilty pleasure?”

Nigel froze wide-eyed as the model laughed teasingly before pulling him to the entrance. When they entered, the owners with fanfare and excitement greeted Nigel. It was an old mom, pop authentic Italian bistro, the mouthwatering scent of spices, herbs and various toasting breads greeted them, and suddenly Cristi thought it might not be so bad. Why he was willing to risk food poisoning for the other man just to see him happy was a thought he didn’t wish to dwell on.

They were seated then served with wine bottled by the owners, Cristi found it delicious and promised himself that he would buy a few bottled for Serena and Andy before he left. Seeing his satisfied nod, Nigel smirked.

“Sufficiently impressed?”

“I never doubted you.” He returned a cheeky grin.

“Hmmm.”

Cristi rose his glass and lightly clanged it against Nigel’s own. “Salud.” He murmured before taking another swig. “So will you not tell me your name misterio?”

“But I so love it when you call me Misterio.”

Cristi leaned over slightly; the flames from the candle caused his eyes to dance. “I’ll call you whatever you want hermoso.” His voice was rough and low and Nigel suddenly and more fiercely turned on than he had ever been.

Clearing his throat, he broke eye contact to sip his wine again. Cristi leaned back in his chair and watched the man, the look of desire that flashed through his eyes and across his face was unmistakable. The thought made him both so ecstatic he could yell in the middle of the relatively crowed restaurant and yet still so nervous, like a teenage boy at his first time.

“Tell me what do you normally do on first dates?” Nigel asked.

“I’ll tell you what I want to do on this date, hmm?” His eyes were smoldering and when Nigel nodded, he carried on. “I want to chat, eat delicious food and drink this amazing wine. Then if you permit me, tomorrow morning I’d like to give you breakfast in bed.”

Nigel nearly choked as the wine he was sipping flew down the wrong tunnel. With lightning speed, Cristi was out of his chair and behind him, waving off the rushing waiters as he soothingly rubbed his date’s back as he coughed into a napkin.

“Well that is the last time I’ll try seducing you.” He said dryly.

“No!- I mean.” He wiped his lips, slightly embarrassed. “I’m sorry that was-”

“Nothing to apologize for hermoso, I normally leave my dates gasping for breath.”

Nigel guffawed as Cristi returned to his chair. “I thought you said no more seducing.”

“I changed my mind, I can’t stop now, not when it makes you blush so prettily.”

“Tell-tell me about yourself?”

“Only child to dotting parents. I have two best friends who are more like my annoying, adorable sisters, you met one yesterday. Andy?” When Nigel nodded, he continued.

“Nothing much to tell really.”

“I don’t believe you for a minute.”

Cristi poured them another drink with a smile. “I sail yachts, play a little polo and I race cars sometimes as well.”

Nigel was impressed. “Oh?”

“Yes, I do a little sculpting and painting as well, whenever the inspiration strikes. Tell me misterio,” His voice lowered. “Will you be my muse?”

“There you go again with the seducing.”

“Is it working?”

“…Go on.”

Cristi’s returning smile made Nigel warm all over.

___________________

“Miranda you wanted to see me?” Emily called out from outside Miranda’s second floor den. She had received a text mere minutes ago from Miranda, telling her that when she came to drop of the book she wanted to speak to her.

“Yes, come in. For god’s sake Emily, I won’t bite.”

Although they had reached a tentative point in their ‘relationship,’ Emily was always terrified that the rug would be pulled from under her and Miranda would go back to being the unbearable fashion icon she admired.

“Do you need anything?”

“Have a seat won’t you.”

Miranda was wearing a soft oversized cashmere jumper and dark slacks; she was curled up in a nook by the fireplace with a well-worn novel in her hand. Quietly, not to disturb the woman’s inner musings, Emily made her way to the single arm chair positioned directly across from the editors.

“Are you okay Miranda?” Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t have dared to break one of the cardinal rules. Ask Miranda nothing.

“Hmmm? Yes, yes, I think so.” She went back to staring into the cackling flames, lost in deep thought until Emily cleared her throat to draw the woman’s attention.

“Why am I here?”

“Would you like a drink?”

She was deflecting, Emily’s brows furrowed. “Sure.”

She rose and moved to the decanter across the room, pouring the amber liquid into two glasses, she handed one to her assistant. Emily’s insides shriveled when she smelt the strong liquor. Miranda just threw it back in one gulp causing her assistant to wince in sympathy for her friend’s liver.

“You have been working for me for quite some time now Emily. It’s time you’ve moved on. Everything is a little unsteady now, but if I promote and transfer you to say London now, if this all doesn’t go according to plan your job will be safe.”

“I-I. No, shan’t.”

This drew Miranda’s gaze. “No?’

“You-you need me, I won’t abandon you now. Whatever happens, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

“But-”

“No Miranda.” It was her first time interrupting Miranda, and she found that she wasn’t shaking with nerves. “I’m your friend and I don’t have many real one, but if I consider you one, I’ll stick by you. I won’t abandon you in a crisis. That would be a real shitty thing to do wouldn’t it.”

A small smile tugged at the editor’s lips as she looked at the woman with new eyes.

“Thank you Emily.”

“That’s what friends are for.” She clinked her glass with the other woman’s.

“I suppose so. I’m trying to be a better, _friend_.” She winced at the words. “To Nigel and to you…so bear with me.”

Emily raised her glass and nodded before throwing it back in one gulp. “Motherfucker! That was disgusting.”

Miranda’s laugh rung across the room as she took Emily’s glass and reached for the decanter. “Another?”

“Of course.”

________________________

Emily had woken the next morning with a hangover straight from the depths of hell itself there was no other explanation. She rolled over to her side, the time, barely 4 a.m., she had a few more hours before work and so she was planning on falling into a mini coma. Her phone chimed, causing her to groan again. She knew it wasn’t Miranda so she tugged a pillow and threw it over her head, choosing to ignore the disturbance, but the phone continued its mutiny.

“What!?” She snapped. As the person on the other line rambled on, Emily felt the hang over and the sleep she desired leave her body. She was shoved into full clarity as her heart rate sped up. “Bloody hell!” She hung up the phone then rung Miranda, the woman answered with a raspy voice and ire at having been pulled from the depths of her dreams. She quickly relayed the message to a furious Miranda. When the woman hung up, she began ringing Nigel. Straight to voicemail, figures, he did have that date. “There goes my sleep.” She muttered as she fought the sheets, kicking and tearing at her mattress before taking a deep cleansing breath. “On with it then.” She mumbled firmly as she rose from her bed and begun her day.

______________

Miranda was dressed for battle. She was all skin tight black Prada with sharp angular shoulder pads and cuts, beautifully designed platinum accessories that resembled chainmail and six-inch Louboutin stilettoes. Yes, she was ready for battle.

The board had called an emergency meeting in the dead of night as if they were some secret clandestine organization that ran the world. She rolled her eyes, if not for Natalie’s assistant contacting her; she would have been none the wiser until it was too late. It must have been Irv’s doing, making his move when he thought she would least expect it. She hadn’t plan for it so soon, but she would make do with the cards handed to her. If he think he was pushing her out today, he had another thing coming.

Inside the room, all the directors were present except the man of the hour. Miranda glanced over at Natalie, who looked just as put out as she did. So, she too doesn’t know exactly why the meeting was called. Interesting. At the head of the table, next to the chairman and CEO’s seat, two men stood resolute dressed in pristine suits, Valentino if she wasn’t mistaken, and she was never mistaken. They stood by the chair, one on each side as though they were guarding it with their lives.

Seconds later, Irv struted in. “What’s the meaning of this?” He was clearly annoyed.

So he too didn’t know what this was about. Interesting. Who had the power to call an executive board meeting without the CEO’s knowledge? Miranda wracked her brain but came up short. Anyone who could was currently in the room, shifting uneasily in their chair as they waited for what. No one knew. Irv tried to move to his usual position, but the suited men blocked his path, telling him to find a seat elsewhere. He sputtered as he tried to move around them, but to no avail. He ranted and roared but they remained unmoving.

“Irving, do shut up and find another seat. You’re giving me a migraine.” Natalie’s bred voice drew the CEO up short. He narrowed his eyes at them, and then gave her the same look before taking the seat next to the chair the two were so loyally protecting.

As they all seated, the doors were flung open and threw it came two well-dressed woman, but for once Miranda wasn’t focused on the clothes. Her eyes narrowed when the next person walked through the door. Strutting in leisurely as though she owned the placed, dressed in a form fitting deliciously cut Valentino suit was the usurper.

Miranda didn’t want to cause a scene, and so she kept her silence, waiting for the woman to make eye contact but she never turned. The Andy woman moved to the seat, Miranda smirked to herself; surely, the two would throw the girl out on her ear. She almost gaped when the moved, pulling the chair for her to sit before pushing it back towards the table. The room remained in silence as the model took a file from one of the women she entered with. In silence, she read it through as though she had all the time in the world. This went on for almost five minutes until Irving lost his composure.

“Who the hell are you?!” He snapped.

She remained silent. Feeling affronted, he reached quickly to rip the files from her, but his attempt was belied by the strong grip of one her guards. He twisted the CEO’s arm and bent it awkwardly as he screamed to be let go.

“Must you yell Irving, I’m right here.” She hadn’t looked up from the file in her hands. She sighed before finally looking up; leaning back in her chair she waved her hand, and just like magic, her guard let him go. “Sit down and be quite Irving, there is much to discuss.”

Rubbing his bruised hand, he sneered. “I’ll sue.” He spat.

“Go on, I have the time.” The boredom in her voice gave way wry amusement.

“I-I…” Her unexpected response threw off the little man.

“Does the figure one hundred and thirty million mean anything to you Irving?”

“Why should it?” He spat.

The woman took the file and threw it across the table to him.

“Because that is the amount you have been embezzling from Elias-Clark for the last twenty-five years.”

“That’s a lie! An outrage! Someone call security to have this bitch thrown out!”

Her guards stepped threateningly towards him. She raised her hand, stilling them.

“Now, now Irving, let’s not debase ourselves with name calling hmm? Not when I’ve arrange for your assets to be frozen and all your account records seized. You might hurt my feelings and then who knows what I might do.”

Needless to say, the room watched the two with rapt attention. Miranda was intrigued and oddly impressed.

“I-I you can’t do that!”

“Oh but I have done it already Irving and it was rather easy too. Call your bank if you don’t believe me.”

He knew he didn’t need to, he saw the truth in her eyes. He was really and truly screwed.

“That mean I’m, I’m I’m…”

“I believe the word you’re looking for Irving, is broke.”

“W-why-”

“You’ve been embezzling for you years and have made horrible business decisions one after the other.” She turned to the room and addressed them. “Elias-Clark would have been bankrupt in a year.” She eyed Irv as the room gasped. “but I’m sure you knew that.”

“What does she mean Irv?! Is it true?!” His long time gulf buddy roared as he slammed his fists on the table. Elias-Clarke going under would mean millions worth of losses for all of them, some it would mean bankruptcy too.

Miranda felt queasy, her precious Runway, gone because of that insipid, stupid rat bastard.

“Your son Jason, I’ve been told he is a straight A student. On track for the Ivys.”

“You leave my son out of this!”

“Luckily for him," She continued as though she hadn't heard him. "He is nothing like his sniveling, bastard of a father.” She sighed suddenly, as if weight had suddenly landed on his shoulders. “We have seized everything and will liquidate to pay back your debt, that includes his collage trust.”

Irv was trembling now. She eyed him, her lips pursing before she threw her pen to the table.

“I’ll provide for an anonymous scholarship that will see him through high school and University once he keeps his grades up and stays out of trouble. The son shouldn’t have to suffer for the sins of the father. I’ll not throw your wife our of her home, she and your son can have it; I’ll not have their tears on my head.”

He sputtered then swallowed as he hung his head.

“Be grateful that I am feeling generous today Irving, be grateful and leave quietly. The authorities are downstairs waiting to take you into custody.”

“B-but, but-”

“That is all Irving.” She turned to one of her guards. “See him out.” With a nod, the man was escorting a crying Irv Ravitz from the room.

“Miranda,” Ice blues snapped to hers when she called. “Natalie, I apologize for disrupting your plans. Subterfuge has never been my strong suit, but I must say, I found you plans extremely entertaining, it’s unfortunate that we won’t see it play out. Maybe some other time?”

“Who are you?” Miranda’s voice was cool.

“I’m sure I told you this two days ago. It’s Andy”

Miranda’s eyes narrowed.

“Oh fine, fine. My name is Andrea Sachs, Lady Andrea Sachs of Westminster and CEO of Sachs International.”

Suffice to say, all mouths fell, including one Miranda Priestly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. – B.S.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. Here’s another chapter, stay safe and I hope you enjoy. – B.S.

“I’m sorry I’m confused.” One of the directors finally found his voice. “W-why are you here?”

She turned her full attention to him. “Haven’t you caught on as yet Mr. Dryer?” She leaned back and crossed her legs. “I’m your new boss.”

“You’re the new boss.” Miranda said blankly.

A smile tugged at Andy’s lips as she turned her attention to the editor. “Yes. I thought that was fairly obvious.”

“The new boss, as in the owner of Elias-Clark. You.” Miranda’s mind was reeling.

Andy laughed lowly. “Have I broken you Priestly?”

“You’re, you’re…”

“Beautiful? Intelligent? Amazing? Is amazing the word you are looking for?”

“Young.”

Andy trailed her forefinger across her lower lip as she leaned towards the woman. “Shocking I know. I’ve barely been weaned and yet here I am.” Andy’s voice was dry.

“You can’t seriously expect us to work for someone who-”

“Just saved you precious magazine from going under? Or the said someone who saved you from being ousted out of your position?” Her voice was cool and sharp. “Choose whichever you prefer.”

“From an entitled creature, who has never had to work for anything a day in her life, Lady Sachs.” Her voice was hard and she spat the title as though it were a curse.

Andy’s eyes narrowed as she pressed her palms on the table. “Mind yourself woman, do not presume to know anything about me. My _‘entitlement’_ is irrelevant; it has nothing to do with the fact that you still have a job because of me.”

“You saving the company has no bearing on your competence!” She snapped.

Andy’s eyes narrowed. ““Age is no guarantee of efficiency or competence.”

“And youth is no guarantee of innovation,” she countered derisively.

Andy’s eyes flashed. So they were doing this. The two were locked in a battle of wills; it was as though everyone and everything in the room had disappeared around them. Somewhere in the room, someone chocked. The other directors save for Natalie Whittman tried gesturing for Miranda to stop antagonizing the other woman.

She paid them no mind. Instead she cocked her head to the side, almost predator in nature. “So what then Ahn…drey…ah?” She drawled the name with contempt and mockery.

Andy found herself on her feet in a flash. “Listen here woman.” Miranda bristled at that but allowed the girl to continue uninterrupted. “Your determination to start a petty feud with me leaves much to be desired. The fact of the matter is that I am your new boss, this-” She waved her hand around her, “is mine, you are _mine._ I suggest you get with the program if you wish to stay with your little magazine.” _‘How could this woman be so infuriating, couldn’t she see that she had done her a favour, the ungrateful wench should be begging for her forgiveness,’_ Andy’s thoughts darkened.

Miranda balked, she didn’t know which part of the statement required the bulk of her fury. The fact that the usurper had _‘claimed her’_ or called her multi-billion dollar baby _‘her little magazine.’_

Within seconds, the editor’s face was mere inches from the brunette’s, her eyes stormed like thunderclouds ready to rage against the heavens, the icy blues were so dark that they appeared midnight. Around them the tension mounted and blistered, so intense was its fury that it felt as though the very air was cracking and breaking under the weight of it.

“Why you vile little thing.” Venom laced her voice. “I am Runway! If you have a problem with me as editor, then fire me.” Her tone was now biting. “Then we’ll see how long Runway lasts without me at its helm.”

Andy’s eyes flickered. She was aware that the only reason Elias-Clarke hadn’t tanked yet was solely because of Runway, and without Miranda as its fierce leader, it wouldn’t last six months as the world’s premier fashion magazine. She couldn’t allow the woman to have the upper hand. “You wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t I?” Miranda’s voice grew lower and dangerous.

The silence became stifling, if a pin dropped, it would have sounded like an explosion. Everyone stared. The two had stilled, the entire world around them was still faded and the only thing that remained was the searing inferno of Miranda’s gaze meeting Andy’s, blistering, unstable, raw. 

Staring into Miranda’s face, all sharp angles and fierce defiance, her skin even paler than Andy remembered — a diaphanous alabaster that made Andy think of steel and starlight… She felt strangely lightheaded, and realised she had forgotten to breathe. What was it about this woman that undid her so? The pounding in her head was reaching an impending crescendo, and Andy had that same urge to lash out or run or burn something to the ground.

“Careful Priestly.” Her voice was terrifyingly low. Andy wasn’t one to lose her temper, always choosing other methods of expressing her ire, but this woman drew all reason from her mind, reverting the aristocrat to her baser instinct.

“Or what?” Where Andy was low white-hot anger, Miranda’s was barely suppressed thunder that sliced through the room like hot steel. The occupants flinched but the editor refused to cower. She did not lower her gaze; instead, she titled her head imperiously, daring the other woman to make the next move.

Miranda watched the woman, the way that her nostrils flared or how her eyes grew wild. She felt exhilarated as her heart raced and her fingers tingled, buzzing with the electricity that sparkled between them.

After a moment, Andy huffed, when one of her assistance cleared her throat and spoke hesitantly. “Lady Sachs, your meeting with the Ambassador is in twenty minutes.”

“I’m in the middle of something, cancel it.” Amber and Blue eyes never wavered from the other.

“Your um…your mother insisted that you meet with the Ambassador.”

Andy cursed under breath. “Fine then.”

“I’ll call the car around.”

Andy was slightly peeved at the interruption. With a final pointed stare at the editor, she murmured so lowly only the other woman could hear. “We’re not finished here Priestly.”

Miranda scoffed as the other woman left the room.

The room seem to exhale a shuddering breath. Miranda sat, rolling back in her chair, she was poised and relaxed, her eyes thoughtful, despite her ‘altercation’ with the new CEO. The faint tapping of her fingers on the wood of the table seemed abnormally loud in the deathly silence Andy had left behind.

Natalie finally found her voice. “What was that?” She was shocked, rattled, and bit bemused. As the occupants of the room filed out, leaving only the two behind, the director perched herself on the edge of the table. “Seriously Miranda, I wasn’t sure whether you two were going to fight or fuck, it was brutal.”

The editor’s eyes narrowed at the director’s familiarity, but she held her tongue, the woman might still prove useful in the future, she couldn’t afford to burn her bridges when uncertainty still clung to the air. Then suddenly, the other woman’s words registered leaving Miranda aghast. “I beg your pardon?”

“Come now Miranda, you were itching for a fight. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much sexual tension in one room.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about and keep your voice down.” Her eyes filtered to the door as if the brunette woman could be summoned by mere thoughts. She would need to keep her distance from this Andrea person while she gathered information on the woman and her plans.

__________________________

Agent Evelyn Hunter winced for the umpteenth time. After her evac and emergency surgery in Berlin, she was quickly and discretely transported back to the estate. Director Matalon had ordered strict and mandatory bed rest after her debriefing and so she was holed up in their heavily guarded medical facility, but now the blonde agent was restless and irritated. She needed to get back to work ASAP not lie here twiddling her thumbs when the asshole who shot her is still out there.

Deciding to chance it, she peered through the door, seeing no sign of the staff; she quickly pulled the IVs from her body and tugged on some sweats she had found in the cupboards. Using her years of tactical and stealth training, she moved through the facility undetected, then into the main building to the central room.

She hid behind a wall as the Director Matalon issued orders to the various teams. Meyer was typing away on her multiple computers while Dougal and Jean-Luc Cormier, ATLAS’ Chief of Legal whispered to each other.

“We have pulled back most of our ground agents in Berlin and deployed class seven intelligence operatives instead. This is no longer an accident but a direct assault, but of course you obviously know that already, don’t you Agent Hunter?”

Evelyn winced at being caught, she was sure that no one in Central had seen her. “Yes ma’am. How did-how did you know I was here?”

“I know everything Agent Hunter, the sooner you realize that, the easier your life will be. I see you have taken my order for bed rest as a suggestion.”

“N-No I…” _‘Dammit Hunter, way to make a good impression to the bog boss!’_ she thoughts rung. She quickly took a deep breath, ignored the pain and calmly spoke. “In all honesty ma’am, I was the one who found the link, who did the ground work and now has a hole in her body that wasn’t there a week ago. I’d appreciate if I was kept in the loop with this case.”

Matalon eyed her, seeing the proud set of her jaw line and the fierce determination in her eyes, she knew that deterring the woman do be of little use. “I’ll give you one better than that Agent Hunter. What class are you?” She asked already knowing the answer.

“Class three ma’am.”

“Well now you’re a class eight and you’ll be working with Dougal to lead the task force.”

Evelyn’s eyes widened, she’d only been at ATLAS for two years, reaching a class eight that quickly was unheard of, it was damn near impossible. Only the most skilled and talented were allowed that designation and even then, it was still an extremely hard position to attain.

“Ma’am?”

“Enough with the ma’am, call me Director or Matalon, whichever you prefer.”

Hunter nodded dumbstruck.

“Good, now where are we with the wife?” Matalon casually tuned back to the holo images as though she hadn’t just threw Hunter’s world for a spin.

Still blinking wide-eyed and gaping, she almost missed Meyer’s grin and wink before she returned to tapping away at her screens.

________________________

Serena Van Visser was slightly satisfied. The samples they had recovered where thankfully viable and able to replicate at a steady rate. She tugged off her safety googles and her lab coat as she exited the sterile area.

She had taken Cristi’s advice to heart and delegated the matters that other could take care of, and then she personally saw to the viability and replication tests. ATLAS had amped up security to an almost alarming level, so she wasn’t worried about a repeat performance. She could leave for London by tonight or tomorrow if she wished, all being well that is.

As she made her way down the corridor, her phone chimed. Taking it out she read the message.

_‘Sweetheart there has been some delay, I won’t be able to make it to London any time soon. Why don’t I just send them straight to New York?”_

It was from her Godmother, Andy’s mum.

_‘I’ll leave tonight, when will you send them?”_

‘ _By the end of the week or early next week, there are still some things I want to get done.’_

_‘No prob, call our girl and let her know.’_

_‘Was just about to. Come by the house the next time you’re in town and drag that Cristobal with you, I haven’t seen you both in ages.’_

_‘Will do aunty, I’ll talk to you later, Ciao.’_

_‘Ciao sweetheart.’_

She then made a quick call to her assistant. “Have the jet ready, I leave for New York tonight.” When she hung up, a bone weary sigh left her lips. She was tired and rightly, so, she just needed a relaxing few weeks sans drama with her favorite people to lift her spirits. That and sleep, lots and lots of sleep.

___________________

Miranda sat in her study, she had finally managed to calm herself after the debacle that was the day. She had breathed fire at work, she knew, but nothing could sate the fury that fueled her. Not firing almost an entire department or reducing some idiotic clackers to tears. Natalie was right, she was still itching for a fight with that infuriating girl. So now she was left unsatisfied and wanting. Realizing how that sounded, she scoffed to her self, studying the proofs and the book that was scattered across her desk.

She felt as though there were more horrible shots than good, and the good ones were barely passable. She was devising a way to convince the new _‘boss’_ she scoffed at that, that a reshoot was needed for the integrity of the next issue. The models were all wrong and the angles were abysmal at best, this photographer was no Demarchelier. Nothing, not even the desire to be done with the issue or her apprehension of broaching the new figures with the CEO was convince her to allow a flaw to appear in Runway.

Maybe she would just go ahead and approve it, it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission after all. With a sigh, she continued study the sheets with her critical eye and opining with her sharp tongue. The next to the last shot on the very last sheet proved to be acceptable and she circled it with a feeling of relief. Her near anal perfectionism demanded that nothing was out of place.

In the midst of her thoughts, a tapping sound broke the train. “Come in.” She softly called, already knowing it was one of her Bobbseys. Just then, a tuff of wild red hair peaked around the corner. _‘Someone decided not to brush their hair today.’_ She thought amused.

“Caroline, darling. Have you and your sister finished your homework?”

“Ah yeah mom, we did it earlier…” Caroline trailed off into silence as she fidgeted under her mother’s knowing gaze.

“Was there something you wanted Bobbsey?”

“Well, ah, me and Cass was wondering if you wanted to watch a movie with us?” She squeaked, she was normally never nervous around her mother but they were still under punishment after all.

Miranda arched a brow, seeing her youngest by four minutes squirm under her gaze. Not bothering to correct the appalling grammar, she tutted, “You’re both still grounded.”

“I know mom.” Caroline threw herself face first into the couch. “But we’re really really sorry and we’ll never do something stupid like that again, we’re just dying of boredom. Pleeeeeease!” She begged. The hopeful expression in the blue eyes so much like her own was Miranda's undoing.

Miranda supposed she could be lenient this once, after all they had been ‘suffering’ for almost two weeks without complaint and were behaving themselves. She would take that while it lasted. “What movie do you want to watch?”

Caroline’s eyes brightened as she jumped up and ran into her mother’s arms. “Thank you mom.” Her grin was wide and infectious and soon Miranda found herself smiling. “We’ll watch whatever you want to.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, just please no old boring black and white movies.”

Miranda gasped in mock indignation as she tickled her daughter mercilessly. “You uncultured Philistine.” Her words were tinged with teasing as Caroline giggled while trying to escape her mother’s clutches.

Across the room, the door squeaked open as an identical, slightly more tamed tuff of red hair peeked through. “Did she say yeah?”

“Yeah Cass.” Caroline said between pants. “She said yeah.”

Cassidy grinned as she ran to the commotion, leaning on her mother’s desk as she watched her sister still on her lap. “Told ya we should just ask.”

“Yeah yeah.”

Piling back the photos and papers back into the book, Miranda rose, setting her daughter gently on her feet then took both their hands as they walked to the theater room. The girls in hope of their mother’s yes had made a nest in front of the sofa with every available pillow they could find. Miranda even noticed one that some looked like the pillows from the guest rooms. She smiled to herself, she really did enjoy snuggling with her daughters in their little pillow fort, no matter how old they were, they would always have these little moments where they were still her babies. Miranda rolled her eyes at their cheesy grins and gave a small 'hmmpf' as she sat down.

Kicking off her shoes, Miranda settled regally in front of the TV and opened an arm to each girl. Squealing and giggling, the two dived in on either side of their mother. It was so much more fun when they could talk her into doing things she normally wouldn't do.

Cassidy, the more pensive of the two watched their mother. She had been really stressed lately and adding to her and Caroline’s almost kidnapping, she could feel her mother withdrawing. Now she watched woman who the world saw as this untouchable icon, Miranda Priestly, the cold fashion queen giggle and play tickle fight with her sister and she felt the tension in her heart lesson. Their mom deserved to be happy. Deserved to smile all the time and for someone to treat her as though she was the most amazing person ever, because she was. They knew she loved them, of course, they did, she never once made them doubt that, but they could always tell that something was missing.

Their mother didn’t like showing when she was hurt and whenever she cried she would hide it from then and pretend all was well, but Cassidy knew better and so did Caroline. She would need to talk to Caroline later, they needed a plan a plan to make their mother happy, so that she would smile and laugh all the time. Yeah, it’ll be great.

“Come on Mom, pick a movie.” Caroline dropped back, burying herself into the multitude of pillows.

As her mother reached for the remote their eyes caught.

“Are you okay Bobbsey?” Miranda whispered when she saw the frown marrying her daughter’s brow.

“Never better mom, never better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. Even the little things. – B.S.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. Here’s another chapter, stay safe and I hope you enjoy. – B.S.

It was probably two or three o’clock in the morning, Serena wasn’t sure. There was no silence or reverence that usually accompanied the early hours of the morning, instead the city of New York was teaming and bustling with tourists, natives and all the like. Luckily, traffic from JFK airport was relatively smooth and she found herself not far from her new home for the next few weeks within an hour after landing. She had only left Berlin the morning before, but she was ready to forget all the stress, even if it was for a short time.

As the town car slowed, she watched the twinkling lights of the skyscrapers towering around her and suddenly, unexpectedly, she was struck by an intense bout of nostalgia. The type that made one yearn for a distant memory and then sucked you into a deep melancholy when it was denied. She tugged off her coat as her driver opened her door and threw it over her shoulder as she reached for her briefcase, a briefcase that contained sensitive information about their project. She made a mental note to have put it in the safe when she reached upstairs, hopefully the tiredness and fatigue from her journey wouldn’t cause her to forget.

Greeting the doorman on duty with a short nod, she quickly made her way across the marble and limestone lobby to the private elevator of top floor penthouse suit.

“You look like crap bella.” A voice whispered behind her.

She whirled around, years of practice made her actions easy as she smacked him upside the head then grabbed on to an ear

“Ow! Ow!” He winced as he hoped around her, trying to break her hold.

“Is that anyway to greet a lady Cristobal Benavente?”

“Sorry, sorry…ah!”

She gave one last tug before letting go. Rubbing his burning appendage furiously, he watched her with narrowed eyes before sticking his tongue out at her.

“How mature.” She said dryly.

Then within seconds, he was on her, wrapping his arms around her tightly as he twirled her in the air. “Seeeerrreeennnaaaa!” He screamed at the top of his lungs.

“Dammit Cristi, it’s three in the morning, keep your voice down.” She tried to keep the amusement from her voice but it was no use, she should have been used to this by now.

“Didn’t you miss me?” He pouted as he set her down, though she could see the mischief twinkling in his hazel eyes.

She rolled her. “Of course I did you dolt.” She ruffled his hair and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “It’s good to see you, you idiot.”

He grinned at that, taking one of her hands, he tucked it under his arm as he pulled her to the lift.

“Are you just going home?” She asked as the gestured for her driver and one of the other doormen to follow her with her bags. They would carry them up when the elevator was free.

“Mhmm.”

She arched her brow. “Do I even want to know why?”

“If you must know-”

“I really don’t want to-”

“The most incredible sex I’ve ever had.” He dreamily continued as though she hadn’t spoken.

“You’ve only been here what? Three, four days?” She said exasperatedly.

Cristobal stopped and looked at her genuinely confused as they entered the elevator. “I do not see you point bella.”

“Of course you don’t” she shook her head fondly.

“Come now, not all of us are prudish like you.” He teased as he playfully bumped her.

“Believe me you and Andy have so much, I am satisfied vicariously.”

“Tsk tsk bella that is no way to live. How long has it been, six months?”

She knew better than to answer him, she knew, but her she heard herself still say. “Years.”

Cristobal stilled, his eyes widened in tandem with the _ding!_ of the elevator doors. Then suddenly he head snapped to her and he looked as if he had seen a ghost, horror marred his face and he honestly began to sweat.

“YEARS!”

“Keep your voice down!” She snapped.

“What-what about all those parties and dates, you would always leave with-”

“I take them home and I go home, _alone_ and sleep, _alone_.”

“B-but, six year?! How are you still alive? How is _it_ -” He made a point to look down to her crotch area. “still alive?!”

“Cristobal!” She smacked him upside the head completely scandalized.

“I can’t even imagi-” He shook his head as he released her arm and took of running further into the penthouse.

She could hear him bounding up the stairs, opening and slamming doors then silence. Absolute silence. Maybe the ‘shock’ had made him faint, maybe he was-

“SIX YEARS!?” she heard Andy’s voice screech across their apartment.

She rolled her eyes. So much for that calming vacation. She should have known better.

_____________________

Nigel walked into Miranda’s office, by passing the new second assistant without a word, then flopped himself unto the pristine white cushions of Miranda’s office couch, without care that he was crumpling his couture. Miranda stood with her back turned by her desk perusing the updated budget for her new photo shoot. She glanced over her shoulder at her art director before returning her gaze to the documents.

He sighed loudly, peeking from the corner of his eye to see of Miranda heard. When she barely offered him glance before returning to her work, he flopped unto his back then dramatically sighed. When that too received no response, he smacked his hand against the frame of the couch and sighed even louder.

“Nigel!” She snapped.

“I did a thing.” He threw his arm over his eyes as he spoke.

Miranda removed her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. Whatever made Nigel think that this behavior was remotely acceptable? They were at work dammit!

“What _thing_?” She found herself asking, but her words were clipped

“I slept with the model form the park shoot?” He mumbled.

For a split second, Miranda’s heart seized and breath caught. _‘Andrea? He slept with- that, that- wait, gay, Nigel is gay. Wait, why do I care, whoever that, that Usurper sleeps with.’_ Miranda scoffed at her thoughts, entirely forgetting Nigel’s presence as she argued with herself. This was not her; this was not something she ever did. Argue with herself and-

“Miranda?” Nigel rose and sat up, eyeing the editor as her eyes shifted wildly. He drew back slightly. “Miranda?”

“What?”

“I was telling you that I uh, I slept with the boy, Cristobal and I…are you okay?”

“I am fine Nigel; we have more pressing matters than your sex life.” She needed to get that woman out of her thoughts; her hate for her was driving her up the wall.

“But, but…”

She shot him a look that could cause grown men to quaver, and the words died on his tongue.

“Fine.” He pouted.

She rolled her eyes, “Enough with the pouting, we’ll lunch and you can tell me about it.”

He visibly brightened and with a nod, that was that.

“Here.” She stretched the folder to him. “Look this over.”

He reached and took it from her then fished his glasses from his suit pocket. Quickly he flipped through the document. “Uh, Miranda?”

“Hmmm?”

“Is this the Iceland, Switzerland idea that you wanted?”

“Yes.”

“The same one that Irv threw out and said and I quote, ‘Over your dead body.’”

“How dramatic that annoying little man was.” She murmured to herself.

“The one that costs a half a million dollars.”

“The very same.”

“And you, um y-you approved _this_?” His voice squeaked at the end. “B-but I heard that you and the new CEO hate-” She shot him another sharp look. “have differences…”

“Leave the _'boss'_ to me, I can handle it.” She waved him away nonchalantly.

“I-okay, if you’re sure.”

“Of course I am sure. Have I ever said or done something I don’t mean?” She peered at him over the rim of her glasses.

“Well no.” Nigel could feel a migraine coming on.

“Exactly. Now, we have a run through at one; tell them I want them here within the hour. That’s all.” She pushed her classes up as she began scribbling and breezing through paper work.

“Okay, so I’m just gonna go give the art department a heart attack then.” She paid him no mind. “Cool, cool, okay.”

__________________

Miranda has always believed that clothes like all forms of art could tell stories, whether it was a tale of seduction or happiness, even mourning or a deep melancholy. Ones clothes could express ones inner most thoughts or what you wanted the world to believe, even if you didn’t feel that way. So when Miranda Priestly dressed that morning, she had expectation of what the day would bring, and so she dressed for it. She dressed as though she was about to declare war on a rival. She dressed in sleek black couture, ready and waiting for her moment to strike and strike, she would. That in tandem with her perfectly styled white coif gave her an otherworldly air; with her pale skin, she seemed fae like and gloriously ominous.

Her smile was sharp. It would make those around her swallow in trepidation of whatever brutal thing was causing the turning of cogs behind her shark like baring of teeth. She looked up at the tittering outside her office door and her eyes narrowed at what she saw. Her eagle eye for perfection zoned in on the collection brought to her for the run-through. The voice in her head sneered in vitriol. It was all dreadful and appalling and heads would roll for it.

Nigel swallowed and shook his head as he saw what his underlings had brought to their queen as tribute and he had no doubt that this would bloody and brutal. He clenched his fists in disappointment. He had busy the past few days with the Central Park shoot and hadn’t the time to pay attention to what Jocelyn, Luka and Stella were up to. Now he winced, hoping that maybe Miranda would be in a forgiving mood. He remembered what she was wearing and that hope quickly fled from him as he swore. She had been dressed for battle, now there would hell to pay.

As the trio wheeled in the racks, Nigel waited with bated breath as her lips pursed. Shit. It was all over and they knew it. She rose from her chair and rounded her desk. She moved towards them like a stalking panther or a lioness on the hunt. She had found her prey and it was time for the kill. She barely glanced at the offerings.

“What. Is. That?” Her words were low and stinging. “Nigel?” She turned her piercing eyes to him and he flinched.

He held up his hands in surrender. “I was dealing with the Central Park mock up for the last week. There was no time to supervise this.” He nodded to the mess that was littering Miranda’s office and clearly offending her eyes.

She moved closer to the racks, flittering through the pieces, but with each one, her ire grew. “I find this,” she took off her glasses and tapped her lips as if in deep contemplation. “An offence to my sensibilities, a deliberate act of war.” She turned to trio. “This is mutiny.” Her voice had grown cold but the sting was white hot.

Nigel could see them trembling under her gaze, the fear pouring from them was almost tangible, and he could see that their editor relished it. The air around them crackled and creaked as Miranda’s eyes narrowed. Then suddenly, she laughed and it was the light carefree laugh she’d share with her children. No, this was bone chilling, hair raising and blood curdling. The king of laugh one would here before your worst nightmares came through.

“Is this, what do they call it Nigel? A prank? Am I being pranked?” Her voice was sickly sweet as they all squirmed. That tone was the worse of them all. It was the tone she took before she completely eviscerated someone then fired them. “Why wasn’t I inform that we were shooting a comedy special in my office, hmmm?”

Nigel held his tongue, knowing better than to say anything in their defence. It really was that bad.

“Miranda we-” Luka attempted to defend.

She held up her hand, cutting through his words. He clamped his mouth shut.

“I have no desire, need or want to hear of your incompetence or excuses. Bore someone else with them. Your failure to perform the most basic responsibility given to you has me wondering after the exact location of the single brain cell you three share.”

They stood like scolded children, knowing better than to say anything.

“This pathetic excuse for a run through, this ridiculous collection that you have brought into my offence will be remedied by tomorrow morning. I will have no excuses. I will be presented with perfection tomorrow.” She turned to Nigel. “Help them, because if they bring anything like this to me again, you will need a new department.”

Nigel nodded as he shot them exasperated looks.

“Be grateful that I am giving you all a second chance and that I loaned you Nigel’s assistance. Do not waste it or my time again. I-”

“Dammit Priestly!”

Miranda’s words were cut short by the angry snap of the new CEO as she came barreling into her office with a file in her hand. Paying no mind to the other occupants, she slapped the file unto the editor’s glass desk. Miranda cocked her head, and so it begins.

“Must you come screaming like some common banshee?” Miranda sat on her chair like a queen on her thrown eyeing the squabbling peasants of her kingdom.

“Com-I’m not going to even get into that with you.” She pointed at the file. “What is this?”

Miranda looked down then back up. “A file.” Her voice was bored.

“Don’t be obtuse with me. What is in the file?”

She delicately shrugged a shoulder as she leaned back and crossed her legs, amusement danced in her eyes as her actions riled the other woman up. “I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”

“Why infuriating-” She slapped her hand down, causing the glass table to creak.

“Careful now, you might break it. I hear our new CEO is quite the cheapskate.”

Andy gaped at the other woman as the vein in her forehead pulsed. _‘Don’t lose it Andy, you’re better than this, calm yourself.’_ She mentally counted to ten, trying to calm her temper, she continued. “Why is there a shoot that costs _five hundred thousand dollars_?”

“Because I approved it.”

“Dammit Priestly!” She exploded then quickly reined in herself. “Calm down Andy, don’t kill her, just calm, calm down.” Andy muttered to herself, eyes closed, but entire room could hear her. After a few moments, she opened her eyes.

“Is something the matter?” Miranda was deliberately goading the woman now and everyone in the room, shrunk into themselves. Even Nigel who had gotten a run down from Emily about the boardroom incident stood their wide eyed and gaping at the two.

“I told you that the company barely has any money and you go and approve this? Under whose authority do you go about making such careless, selfish decisions? Do you forget that your silly magazine is not the only one Elias-Clark has?”

There was a straggled sound in the room at the brunette’s words. Nigel subconsciously reached to rub his chest.

Miranda was out of her seat in flash. The two were leaning across the desk, fury crackling between them.

“What did you just say?” The anger hardened her voice.

“I do not repeat myself.”

“How dare you!” She snapped. “Runway is-”

“I know what Runway is, Runway is _mine._ Cancel it. _”_

“No.” Her eyes narrowed.

They both knew that Andy could have easily cancelled it with a simple phone call, yet, here she was.

Andy leaned in closer. “Cancel it.”

“No.”

The energy between them cackled as neither wanted to break the stare off first. They were so close from certain angles it would look very compromising. Nigel felt like he was intruding on something personal. An odd feeling because the two seemed seconds away from…his eyes widened. Well shit.

In Andy, anger when she had stormed in, she hadn’t gotten a chance to take in the woman’s appearance. Now that they were locked in a battle of silent wills, it gave her a moment. Miranda looked like one of the fairy princesses her mother would tell her about as a babe, _‘no, not a princess,’_ Andy thought, _‘a queen. An infuriating, stunning queen with the most hypnotic blue eyes.’_

“You have stunning eyes, they darken when you're angry.” She whispered absentmindedly, her voice was laced with curiosity.

Miranda recoiled, stunned and confused. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion when Andy’s smirk grew.

“Let’s not fight in front of the children.” She gestured behind her at the Nigel and the trio who watched her in shack and apprehension. “I will give you this, but you will come to me first before you approve something like this. Understood?” She crossed her arms with an arch of her brow. “It’s a good compromise, don’t be stubborn Priestly.”

She titled her head. That was easier than she thought, something wasn’t right. “Fine.” She whispered lowly.

“My assistant got a call this morning from the Dubai tourist board.”

“And that is my business because?” Her tone was dry and scathing. The woman was a conundrum wrapped in an enigma. How could one awful creature be so confusing? She was cold and angry one minute then the next she was all smug smirks with that ridiculous, not entirely unappealing arrogant arch of her brow.

“They’ve decided to host an impromptu fashion something and want Runway to be there.”

“Fashion something.” She titled her head and spoke as though she was speaking to a child.

“Yes.”

“I don’t have the time for it.”

“First of all, I haven’t even told you when it’s scheduled for.”

“Don’t care.”

“Enough!” Andy snapped. “I told you, not in front of the children. I gave you your half a million shoot. You will do this. End of discussion.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“Must you always be this combative?”

“Must you always annoy me with silly ridiculous things?”

Andy eyed her with exasperation, then a mischievous glint gleamed in her eye and Miranda wasn’t sure whether she should be suspicious or charmed.

“Elias-Clark needs the exposure to boost revenue. Either do it or you’ll have to work with the editors of the other five magazines and make them just as good as Runway.”

Definitely suspicious.

“You wouldn’t.”

Andy pointed to herself amused. “Boss remember.”

Miranda narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. “Fine.”

“Was that so hard?” Again with that smug smirk. Miranda wished she could wipe it off, _‘maybe with a smack or a…or a…kiss?’_ Her mind screeched to a halt. _‘Where did that come from?’_

“Excellent. I’ll leave you to your…” She turned to look at the rack brought in for the run through. “Your horrible tastes.”

“Why you-”

The girl had already left.

She turned to the other in the room.

“Out.” Her whisper was lower and deadlier than usual. “Now.”

The trio scurried out with a commotion as they tried to quickly maneuver the racks through the door. Nigel remained behind.

“What was-”

“Not. A. Word.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. – B.S.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. Here’s another chapter, stay safe and I hope you enjoy. – B.S.
> 
> P.S. I wasn't planning on uploading one today/tonight but a comment from Jaycen gave me the little push i needed, so thank you.

_‘THE RIOT CLUB TAKE NEW YORK BY STORM!’_

_Who is the Riot Club you may ask my dear, dear readers?...’_

Miranda had grazed pass ‘Page Six’ this morning and had no intention of giving her precious time to Rupert Merdoch’s war on journalism. She had decided that she needed to get out of the house, as the blistering silence was becoming unnerving. The girls had gone to their father’s for a few days and left the editor with nothing to do but work; and work she did.

Much to her pleasure, a new, upcoming designer approached her. He was extremely talented and Miranda found herself drawn to his work. With the right hand, he could rise to become one of the greats and she had every intention of it being her hand that guided him, despite his haughty arrogance and smarmy smirk, he was a complete 360 degree from the calm self-confidence and ease that one Andrea Sachs carried herself.

Without missing a stride, she swore under her breath. _That_ was another reason she had started coming in extra early and leaving later than usual. Her mind, in all its forty-five years, has decided that now would be the best time to enter its rebellious faze.

No matter where she was or what she was doing, she would find her thoughts at the most peculiar of times, drifting to _her._ If her mind had sought to conjure up different ways of homicide or new witty barbs that would leave the woman floundering, she would have been satisfied, if not a bit pleased. But no, instead she found herself _‘daydreaming,’_ a shiver of disgust ran through her at the word. _‘Daydreaming’_ about, about…glinting amber eyes…and, and…soft full lips…how they would feel on her hers, on her skin, that ridiculous tongue that had an answer for everything, she’d put it better use and…

Miranda clenched her hands as her breath hitched and her eyes darkened. _‘No, not here and certainly not about that, that…’_ She needed a distraction and with determination quickening her strides a tad, she entered the Runway reception area. Normally she’d have been bombarded by scanty halls and two sweating, jittering assistants as her driver would have notified them of the incoming storm. On this particular day, only Emily clambered to meet her at the elevators, her eyes were wild as they flickered around in search of something. The wayward second assistant no doubt.

“M-morning Miranda.”

Good, she could still illicit nerves and fear.

“We hadn’t expected you this early.” Her voice rose as she tried tapering her panic.

Miranda removed her coat and threw it behind her, knowing the red head was sure to catch it before even a wisp of the fabric touched the floors. As they rounded the corner and strode closer, the two saw the new girl, huddled with a clacker over a tablet, giggling and pointing, unaware of the threat that loomed behind them. 

“My god have you seen the new CEO, she’s much better to look at than Irv Ravitz I can tell you.” The clacker sighed wistfully.

Miranda’s attention was immediately piqued, and her desire for a distraction from thoughts of the girl flew through the window. She slowed her stride stopping just out of sight of her wayward employees. If not for her quick _‘Miranda reflexes’_ Emily would have walked right into the older woman, luckily she caught herself before impact. Curiously, she moved a little closer, straining to hear what had captured the editor’s attention so fervently.

“It says here that she was at opening of that club, _Invictus_.”

“Yeah, I was there. It was my birthday so my friends took me.” The new girl’s voice rose in excitement an Emily winced.

“No _way!_ ” The clacker gasped.

“ _Way!_ Well I wasn’t there, _there_ at first. The lines were super long and only like famous people were allowed in. So we just planned to stand outside and watch then go to a bar or something.”

“But you got in?” The other girl’s voice was disbelieving.

“Let me tell it!”

“Fine, fine.”

“Miranda let me just-” Emily moved to break up the powwow was froze as the editor rose her hand, stilling her movements. Emily shrank back with a slither of pity for the women.

“So there we were, waiting in line for almost two hours then they show up.-”

“Who?”

“Andy-”

Miranda bristled at the casual way in which the girl addressed Andrea.

“Cristi and Serena.” The girl finished smugly at knowing the names and having met New York’s new _‘it’_ crew. ‘god they’re gorgeous.”

“Serena?” Miranda’s whisper echoed Emily’s thoughts. ‘ _Who was that?’_

“When they got to the entrance, nobody knew who they were but then the bouncer just threw open the ropes like they were royalty. I told my friend that she is my boss’ boss and the idiot starts screaming at her and pointing at me before they went in.” The girl paused for dramatic effect and the clacker rolled her eyes.

“Hurry up and tell the story, you’re taking too long and Miranda will soon be here.”

_‘Too late.’_ Emily snickered mentally.

“So anyway, for some reason she comes over, and she’s so confused but has this adorable _expression_ on her face. Her nose twitches a little and…” She sighed as though she’d found her soul mate. “She’s just so uhm, beautiful and approachable, and so I told her I was Miranda’s assistant and she just _smiled_ and oh god my heart stopped.”

Miranda listened with rapt attention, trying to convince herself that it was casual curiosity and that she didn’t care the girl was fawning like some, some trollop! Emily watched the editor as her fists clenched so tightly they resembled her hair and her lips were pursed as though she had seen a purple polka dotted dress accented with bright pink and yellow stripes and bows. _‘This was not good.’_

“When she found out it was my birthday too, she told the bouncer that we were with them and girl, and it was amazing. Everyone was fawning all over them and they were so charming and sweet and so _nice_ but also like really, really fucking sexy.” She fanned herself.

Emily all but fainted when she heard a low, very subtle growl from Miranda.

“We danced a little and gave us the VIP treatment, she was cute about it. Damn that girl can get me anytime. Can you imagine the things she can do with her tong-”

Emily jumped from behind Miranda before the woman killed anyone. It only took 3 seconds into the story to realize the white-haired woman was jealous and the worse part was she didn’t even realize it. Emily knew as they women drooled and thirsted that she had to move quick fast and in a hurry less the editor lose her cool.

“Get back to work!” She snapped as the woman behind her quickly composed herself.

The two gaped at her, barely able to utter a word.

Within seconds, Miranda was back to a mask of cool indifference. “Tell me Emily, is this what I pay you all for?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “To mill around my halls gossiping like old maids by the river? Is your job somehow an inconvenience? Should I relieve you of it so that you can pursue your true calling?”

“N-no Miranda, I’ll just-” The clacker pointed behind her before darting down the halls, leaving the assistant to fend for herself.

“I-I-I-”

“Bore someone else.” She moved pass the woman who shot Emily a pleading look.

“Just, just go get her coffee and pick up the scarves from Hermes.”

The girl nodded frantically before scurrying down the halls frantically.

As Miranda entered her office, she drew up the Page Six blog on her phone. There in all its glory was a story about the ‘Riot Club,’ _‘what a ridiculous name’_ she thought. There was a picture of the CEO, a wide grin on her face as she held the ‘model’ from the Central Park shoot in a headlock. Draped over them, with her head thrown back mid laugh was a blonde woman who could rival the supermodels that graced her pages with ease.

_‘Was the blonde her lover?’_ Miranda read about the trio’s wild night and escapades that charmed the who’s who of the New York nightlife. She had to admit, she herself was maybe a little bit amused, maybe a tiny bit charmed despite the odd sensation running through her. Her body knew what her mind had yet to grasp and so the feelings of possessiveness and jealousy ate her alive.

The article was littered with various candid pictures, and the woman was perfection in every shot. The long waves of mahogany silk falling over her shoulders, the big wondrous amber eyes dominating a flawless face, the high chiseled cheekbones, Miranda felt the pull at her heartstrings. Her eyes widen, _‘Is this what a heart attack felt like? Was she having a heart attack?’_ She rubbed her chest as the pain slowly ebb.

“Miranda, we have a bit of a problem.” Emily was truly dreading this moment, but it had to be done.

The woman quickly exited the article and threw her phone on the table. With an arch of her brow, Emily stuttered on. “The uh, the designer you were planning on featuring in the next issue, it was uh, it was scrapped.” She winced, knowing how much time Miranda had invested.

Emily saw the various stages of disbelief flicker across the editor’s face. First, it was shock, then confusion as her brows drew down, then there was rage, absolute all-consuming rage.

“Who…?” Her voice grew eerily calm.

Her assistant shot her look. _‘Who else?’_

“That, that…” She was out of her chair with a quickness, blowing pass Emily as she tore down the hallway. She jammed at the elevator button until the doors flew open. Maybe it was the fact that it was a fuming Miranda Priestly; but everyone in the elevator recoiled, barely waiting for the quite “Out,” before they clamored through. Within seconds she was in and punching the number for the Chairwoman’s floor.

“Ms. Priestly? Ms. Priestly you can’t go in the-!”

She heard the frantic yells of Andrea’s assistant, but they fell on deaf ears. She stormed pass the man as he tried blocking her path, with one look she had him stepping back. “Y-you can’t…”

Slamming open the door she rounded into the spacious office with fire in her eyes.

“I can’t believe y-!” Her eyes widen and the words froze in her throat. Andy had raised a finger to silence her as she finished a phone call in Portuguese. That wasn’t what caught Miranda off guard however, it was the fact that she was-

“Why are you naked?”

Andy rolled her eyes as she threw the phone on the table. “I’m not naked; I just don’t have on a shirt.”

“Why?” Her throat dried as her eyes lingered on the other woman’s taunt abs then to the slacks that hugged the swell of her hips…

“I spilled something. Why are you this prudish?” She frowned. “Don’t you see woman in lingerie almost every day?” Andy tugged on her silk button down but froze, her fingers lingering on the buttons when she saw the wild look in Miranda’s eyes. _‘How curious.’_ Her lips curved slightly as she fought a smile. Deciding to leave her shirt unbuttoned, she leaned back against her desk and crossed her legs. “You came storming in, what have I done now?”

The question jolted her from her less than innocent thoughts and she instantly remembered her rage. “You canceled my issue.” Her eyes narrowed.

One of the woman’s brows rose imperiously. “I did nothing of the sort.”

“Oh?” She studied her shrewdly. “So _you_ didn’t scrap the new designer we were featuring?”

“Oh that, yes, that was me.”

“You cannot waltz in make changes to my magazine. Not even Irv did that and he was a despicable bastard, but at least he respected my decisions.” They both knew that was a stretch, but she continued. “I’ve been working on it for a _month_ and you just, just-”

“Calm yourself, I respect your decisions.”

“Then _why_?”

“I saw the mock up yesterday and something about the designs were familiar. So I took a picture of it and sent it to someone in Portugal.”

Miranda pinched the bridge of her nose, praying for patience and restraint. “You sent the photos of an unlaunched upcoming designer to a _friend_?”

“It was one picture and she’s not really a friend friend, or maybe she is,” She tilted her head in thought. “I don’t really- she’s a photographer I met in Florence, extremely brilliant, but we slept together so I don’t really know what she is now.”

“What the hell were you thinking?!” Miranda snapped.

“I know right. You think it’ll be fine but it always makes things weird. It must have been the Florentine air or maybe it was that amazing thing she does with her tongue that’s…”

“Enough.” The patience she was begging for was waning quickly.

“No need to be jealous Priestly. I only have eyes for you.” That insufferable smirk again.

She chose to ignore that. “You wouldn’t interfere with my work. That was the deal.”

“That designer you were going to feature, his work is an exact replica of Morgana Garcia, a Mexican designer who has been trying to get on the scene for the last two years.”

Miranda was not expecting that. “How-”

“My…friend?” She shook her head and decided not to dwell on that. “She had this breathtaking picture in her bedroom from a market in Cancun. I remember seeing a dress, briefly mind you, but I loved it. I looked similar to some of your designer’s pieces.” She passes her tablet to her with a blow up of the very picture.

Miranda was floored, the resemblance wasn’t only indistinguishable. It was virtually the same.

“I just saved us a lawsuit and you an embarrassment.” If the girl was smug before, the grin on her face watched Miranda made the other woman’s blood boil.

“I’ll be sure to find a way to pay you back.” She said through gritted teeth.

“You do that.” Again with the smirk.

“Don’t gloat, it’s really unattractive.”

“Is it though?” She crossed her arms and blue immediately drew to them. _‘Well, well.’_

Miranda huffed and rolled her eyes before storming out to the sound of Andy’s laugh..

_____________________

Serena was lost, she was sure the receptionist said the CEO’s office was on the 14th floor, but as the elevators opened and she made her way down the hall, it was evident that she had been mistaken. The place was beautiful, too beautiful to be real and there glass lining the walls and partitioning the rooms. Everyone was well dressed, the woman clacked about in high heels and everyone was moving quickly, obviously with purpose and looking frightened, as if the very devil were after them.

As she strode down the corridor, everyone stopped to stare, gesture and whisper amoungst themselves. She knew why, and she was unbothered by it, let them stare, why not.

“You should be downstairs waiting with the other models.” A voice slipped behind her.

“I’m not a model.” She responded as she turned.

The man eyed her, running his hand over his bald head, the rings on his fingers glittered in the light. “You’re not?”

“No.

“And you don’t work here, I’d have remembered you.”

Was he hitting on her? Because she could’ve sworn he was gay.

“Yes I would have convinced you into Elie Saab…” he took off his glasses and circled her, eyeing her up and down. “or Valentino, yes.”

“Oh would you?” Amusement laced her voice.

“Of course.”

She laughed then. “Ah, the American tenacity I see.”

He smiled before taking her hand with a flare of dramatics. “Nigel Kipling and you are?” Her accent was lovely and he found himself charmed.

“Serena Van Visser. Pleasure to meet you. Tell me something Nigel, which floor is the CEO’s. It seems that I’m lost.”

“Oh? You’re looking for Lady Sachs?”

“Yes, I-”

“Nigel, I’ve been looking for you all morning.”

Serena stilled, the blood in her veins turned to ice and she turned, slowly. She knew that voice. That voice haunted her dreams for the last seven years. The red head woman approached with her head down as she scrolled through her phone. Serena stared at the top of the woman’s head; the woman who hadn’t realize her friend wasn’t alone.

“I was just coming to meet you when my eyes caught this fabulous creature.”

“Oh yeah? Who-?” Her head rose and so did her brows. Her fingers clenched her phone and her words died. “It’s, it’s you?” There was awe in Emily’s voice

As if a jolt of electricity had passed through Serena, she turned back to Nigel with smile. Completely ignoring the other woman. “I must be going, I’ll-”

“Serena! Bella!” A voice shouted down the hall. “What are you doing here?” Cristobal approached and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to find him.” He nodded to Nigel.

The two then began speaking in rapid Dutch.

_“This was who you spent the night with?”_

_“He’s handsome no?”_

_“Yes, but why are you here really?”_

_“I want to ask him out again, I lost my phone at the club last night, so I don’t have his number.”_

_“You’re asking him out? A second time? After you’ve already slept with him?”_

_“You make me sound so horrible bella.”_ He poked her in the side. _“Didn’t I tell you it was the best sex I’ve ever had?”_

She stared at him blankly before tugging at his ear _. “I like him, so don’t break his heart.”_

_“You wound me bella, maybe he’ll break mine.”_

She snorted with a roll of her eyes. _“I’m serious.”_

_“So am I.”_

She looked at him properly, noticing that his jaw was set and the teasing glint had left his eye.

_“You’re serious.”_

He nodded firmly.

_“Well, I’ll be damned. Okay, this is fantastic. I can’t wait to tell Andy that you have a crush.”_ She grinned when a blush bloomed across his cheek.

_“Shut up, you’re embarrassing me.”_

Her laugh drew the eyes of those around her, even Emily who watched her with such heart rendering longing. She then switched back to English. “Nigel, it was a pleasure to meet you.” She kissed his cheek then whispered in ear. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing more of you.” She then turned to Cristi. “Meet me at the elevators, we’ll go up together.” Without sparing a glance at the red head who stepped towards her before changing her mind, she was off.

Cristi noticed the weird exchange and decided that it would definitely need investigation, but first.

“You told her your name before you told me misterio. I’m wounded.”

“Yes well, I haven’t heard from you in quite a while so.” He shrugged.

“I lost my phone with your number, and I had no name to start the search with, other than hermoso and misterio.”

Nigel eyed suspiciously, he couldn’t say he wasn’t devastated when days passed and he hadn’t heard from the Spaniard, but now, here he was with an explanation and puppy eyes. He felt himself caving and knew this would be a problem for him in the future.

“My name is Nigel, Nigel Kipling.” He held out his hand as if they hadn’t far surpassed such pleasantries. The smile that lit the younger man’s face as he took Nigel’s hand and pressed a kiss to it could have stopped the hearts of multitudes.

“Cristobal Benavente, at your service senor.” He bowed with a flourish and a cheeky grin.

_‘Benavente? Why did that sound so familiar?’_ Nigel wracked his brain, before his eyes widened like a light switch had flicked.

“Benavente? As in the Benavente Institutes, Museums and Galleries?” His voice squeaked at the end.

“Si, Si, the very same.”

Nigel felt faint. The Benavente name was synonymous with the arts. Not only was the family as blue a blood as they came, but they were the patrons and founders of the Institute, three of the most prestigious art schools in the world. The school in Milan focused on fashion, painting, sculpting and the like; the one in Moscow was geared towards dancing of all genres and styles and the Vienna branch was all things music.

Only the best of the best were admitted into the schools; their student body consisted of child prodigies and people of the exemplary talent. The Museums and Galleries the family owned were the most extraordinary on the planet, not to mention the family was old money, really old money.

Nigel was sure he was about to pass out.

“Are you okay?” Cristi drew him closer, wrapped an arm around his waist and pressed the back of his hand to the other man’s forehead, a frown marring his features. “You look unwell.” He whispered.

“I ah…” He shook his head to gather his thoughts. “Why are you here?”

“Ah, I wanted to invite you out Saturday afternoon.”

“Saturday?”

“Si.” Both arms were wrapped around Nigel’s waist now, and as unprofessional as it was, he couldn’t bring himself to care or to tell the other man to let go.

“I should be mad at you.” Nigel whispered as he thought of he had been left high and dry.

“Si, Si. I was very naughty.” He leaned closer. “Do you want me to beg misterio?” His voice grew husky and his eyes darkened.

Nigel’s grip on Cristi’s arm tightened as he forced himself to swallow. “Cristobal, I’m at work.”

“Hmmm.” He leaned back only a fraction. “Well Saturday I’ll pick you up at 12, I’ll do all the begging then, hmmm?”

Nigel barely managed a nod before Cristobal drew him to him, pressing the most intoxicating and promising kiss to his lips. He felt as though his heart had left him and the world had vanished and the only thing tethering him to reality was the most amazing lips in existence. Within seconds, too quickly of you asked him, Cristobal had pushed himself off him and with a pleased smirk and a wink he was off.

“Way to go Nigel.” Emily’s voice barely registered in the roar of blood that was rushing though Nigel’s ear.

“Way to go me.” He whispered back as he watched the man go.

_________________________

It was closing in on 9 pm and Andy was still at Elias-Clarke, flicking through mounds and mounds of paper work. After the budget incident, something hadn’t sit well with Andy and so she went over the documents ATLAS had sent her. With accounting statement she read, her fingers would tighten on the paper and her blood would boil. Nothing was adding up and there was only one reason for that. Grabbing her phone, she quickly dialed a number and snapped into the speaker.

“Bring the car around.” Hanging up, she quickly reached for her coat and threw two of the files into her case.

Within moments, she was slipping into the backseat of her town car outside of her building before handing the address to the driver. “Get me there in under ten minutes and you can take tomorrow off.”

“Yes ma’am.” The driver quickly shut the door and rounded the car with a pep in his step, thinking of all the things he could get done tomorrow with his impromptu day off.

As the car pulled out into traffic, the driver stealthily maneuvered the vehicle through various back alleys and side roads, avoiding the hustle and bustle of the bumper-to-bumper taxi. In exactly nine minutes, the car screeched to a halt in front of the address.

“Ma’am, we’re here.”

“Don’t wait, I’ll call you when I’m ready.” And with that she shut the door and stormed up the stairs, fuming as she pressing the door bell. When she received no answer, she rung it again. After the third time, she started banging on the door.

The door swung open with a fury. “What the hell do you think you’re doing!?”

Without responding, Andy stalked into none other than Miranda Priestly’s home. Her eyes were wild and her breathing was heavy as she paced the woman’s foyer.

“You have the nerve to come to _my_ home?” Miranda was barely able to put the lid on the steam that was bubbling within her. “Have you lost your mind?” She snapped.

Andy whirled, eyes blazing. “Have you lost yours!?”

“Don’t you dare raise your voice in my home!” She slammed her door as she advanced on the woman. Luckily, the girls would be at their father’s until the weekend.

“You will not tell me what I dare to do, woman.”

“This is not Elias-Clarke; this is not one of your companies. I. AM. Not. One of your underlings. You will not speak to me in my home that way.”

“Get off your high horse!” She snapped back as she opened her briefcase and drew out the files. “You act as if you’re better than Irv, but you two are the same, you _thieving bitch_!” Andy head snapped back violently as Miranda slapped her across the face.

“Get out!”

“No! You will explain yourself!” She shook the files in her hand furiously, paying no mind to her reddening cheek.

“I have nothing to say to you!”

“The numbers don’t lie. It says here that you’ve been approving expensive shoots then only spending a fraction of the amount you’ve taken. What you and Irv decided it’d be fun? Then he decided to cut you lose and you got upset?” Her tone was mocking.

Steam burned from Miranda’s ears, she couldn’t believe the foolishness she was hearing.

“I have no idea what you’re accusing me of!”

“Embezzling Miranda! You’ve been Embezzling with that snake for the last five years! What you thought I wouldn’t find out?! Look!” She took out a leaf. “You approved a budget for two hundred thousand, but the receipts add up to only one hundred. And there are hundreds more like this!”

Miranda’s breath deepened and her hands shook at what she was hearing. “You, you-” She turned on her heels and stormed up the stairs. She could feel Andy not far behind her. She flung open her study door with a bang, quickly rounding her desk she riffled through the drawers. When she finally found what she was searching for she took them out with a triumphant gleam in her eyes, then she marched towards the brunette and threw the papers at her. Never in her life had she ever been so angry. Not even when she found out her ex-husbands were cheating. The rage that bubbled within her was unparalleled.

“There you brute! Those are the actual budgets I signed off on. You come into my house with you-” She growled in frustration. “Take them and get out!”

“You, you-” Andy stepped on the papers as she thundered, forcing the other woman backwards to her desk.

Not a single finger touched Miranda; it was just something about her yes that compelled the editor to move. The normally stubborn icon found herself subconsciously reacting to the waves rolling off the other woman. Something primal and wild, her breath hitched. Within the blink of an eye, the white haired woman found herself pressed against the desk, legs spread and the furious brunette between them.

“How dare you lay hands on me? How dare you-” She snapped. Grasping the other woman by the back of the neck, the younger woman pulled the editor to her lips, claiming the woman, mind, body and soul, with that one kiss.

Miranda completely intoxicated by the feeling, gave herself over and reveled in the plundering of her mouth. She responded, opening her mouth and accepting the strong, wet tongue deep inside her. She trembled; she flooded and wrapped her legs around Andréa's hips trying to pull the brunette closer to where she needed her. She would have never imagined that this was how her day would end, being taken on her study desk while her children weren’t home by the very woman that both infuriated her and haunted her dreams.

Andy’s mouth was demanding, and Miranda’s was weak to deny. She barely registered the buttons on her blouse flying across the room as the fragile fabric was ripped apart, yet she still gasped. “That’s couture.” To which Andy rasped. “I’ll buy you something better.” Before grabbing her back into the kiss. In the haze of lust that had descended into the room, Miranda felt only the strong fingers kneading her breasts before pulling and pinching her hardened nipples.

Thought left her as the brunette hiked up her skirt to her waist without care of damaging the delicate material. She then with a firm grip ripped the lingerie and shoved it aside, barely paying attention to anything other than throwing them both over the edge. The only thing that consumed the editor was the wanton feeling as three fingers shoved deep inside her as a hot mouth moved from her lips to bite and suck the nipple now left free. She only knew one thing, and that was she was going to come right here, in her study, her sanctuary away from her office, where none of her ex-husbands were allowed to enter much less do this, all because Andréa was going to make it happen and Miranda had not the slightest desire to stop her.

She whimpered as she scratched her fingers down Andy’s back, tugging her shirt from her slacks and running her hand down the abs that she had been salivating over since day. Then she groaned in protest as hands and fingers left her, but she used the opportunity to tear the other woman’s shirt over her head, discarding the flimsy material somewhere across the room. Andy leaned back, tugging her white haired vixen to her feet. Miranda’s knees where jelly and she could barely find the strength to stand.

Stripping the rest of her clothes, Andy gripped the back of Miranda’s thighs and with a strength Miranda didn’t know exist, she lifted the other woman who subconsciously wrapped her legs around her waist. Andy then reached behind her lover and cleared a space, without care as to the papers flying around them. The woman under her intoxicated her. Her finger buzzed with the desire to touch, her tongue and lips with the desire to taste and her soul wanted, it wanted with every part of its being. She pushed the woman back on the desk, plunging once more between her thighs.

Arching her back, Miranda's moans turned guttural as she clawed at the younger woman, her breath gasping and panting from her chest. The fingers buried deep inside her increased their rhythm and force. Just as she reach the pinnacle, the pace and pressure would change yet again, keeping her always on the edge, allowing her arousal to grow exponentially. Just when she felt her heart would stop if she could not come soon, she looked down. She was almost undone right there, Andy watched her with fierce amber eyes that sucked her in without preamble, she was fighting a losing battle. She needed with everything in her, to come, the labored organ seemed to do just that as full lips wrapped around her clitoris, and Andréa sucked with the full power of her mouth and lungs. Miranda exploded screaming.

Barely coming down from a high she had never before reached, she felt a soft hand lightly wrap around her throat as the brunette trailed her lips up, peppering her jaw line before sucking the spot behind her ear that made all thought and cognitive behavior cease, reducing her to a pile of wanton goo.

“You’re mine Priestly.” Andy whispered so lowly that Miranda was unable to make out her words but she still found herself shivering at the lust-roughened voice that caressed her ear.

The editor’s heart rate began to settle and she caught her reflection in the mirror across the room. Her white hair was no longer its usual perfect coif, but was instead tussled in a ‘just got fucked’ vibe. Her lips were swollen and red and her eyes were bright, wide and glittering. She looked for better words, freshly and thoroughly fucked. She turned and caught Andy staring at her and gone was the usual arrogant smirk and eyebrow arch. Instead, the look was replaced by a slight upturn of her lips, her eyes were easy, calm, and tenderness shone through.

Miranda felt like stone had dropped into her stomach and she pushed the woman from her position between her legs. Jumping down unto shaky legs, she turned to find her clothes.

“I trust you can find you way out?” Her tone was crisp and her words were sharp.

“What?” Andy was still under a lust filled haze, so the words hadn’t registered.

“Out, go. I have things that need my attention.” She refused to look at the woman.

_‘Why that insufferable...’_ Andy ire returned tenfold. “Not a problem.” Andy smile voice was dry as she rolled her eyes. She found her tattered shirt and threw it back to the floor, then located her jacket and tugged it on. Making her way to the door, she stopped and threw over her shoulder. “Thanks for the fuck Priestly.”

Miranda’s eyes blazed as she threw a decanter across the room, smashing it near the door. Andy never flinched; she only shot her a smirk as Miranda sneered at her to get out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. – B.S.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. Here’s another chapter, stay safe and I hope you enjoy. – B.S.

Nanotechnology, the idea was Serena’s dream. She had developed the idea with the help of Andy and Cristobal after a night of drinking and a bar fight that left them running through the streets of Bangkok. Some years later, the good doctor’s dream was becoming a reality. She had spent some time buried in mounds of research and experiments, only coming up for air when her friends dragged her out. Now, they had working prototypes and two cluster cells were dispatched to the labs in Berlin and Zurich for further research. 

Director Matalon read the digital document outlining the details of the Van Visser tech. Only few were privy to the details of the project, but now she had to broaden the numbers in order to catch whomever as behind the sabotage. Pressing the intercom button, she called for an emergency meeting of the chiefs. They had work to do.

__________________

“Did you need something?” Hunter grunted as she pulled herself up. The stitches on her side pulled but she refused to stop.

“The director wants to meet with the Chiefs.” Meyer strode into the training room, her eyes riveted to the tablet screen in her hand. “It’s an emergency, we might have a lead.”

“Are you forgetting that I’m not a Chief? I was literally just promoted to class eight.

“She requested that you be there. So let’s go, we’re already la-” Meyer stopped short. She didn’t know whether to be impressed or annoyed at the sight before her.

Agent Evelyn Hunter, class 8 tactical division was dangling from one of the metal beams across the high ceiling of the training room, dressed in nothing but compression shorts and a sports bra. Sweat ran and glistened across her defined abdominal muscles that clenched and released with each pull. Adalia swallowed as her train of thought was forgotten and her heart rate picked up. The restrained power in each cord of lean muscle that stretched across her shoulder blades was all hard lines and honed power, contracting and flexing with an easy rhythm.

Her eyes trailed down the gorgeous body that was now suspended midair as the agent cocked her head, watching her. The hacker then noticed the bandage that covered the barely healed gunshot wound was tinged a pale pink. She frowned, stalked forward and smacked the other woman’s stomach.

“You’re pushing yourself too hard and you’ve barely healed.” She scowled.

Dropping to her feet, the agent rubbed at her stomach, eyeing the other woman with a small smile. “I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding.”

“There's barely anything.”

“It’s enough that I noticed.”

Arching a brow, Hunter’s tilt of the lips was now a full fledged smile.

“I didn’t know you cared.”

“Well I did go through all that trouble to save your life, I’m invested now.”

“Ah I see.” She grinned. “And here I thought it was because of my charming disposition and beautiful face.”

Rolling her eyes, Meyer scoffed. “Come, or I’ll tell the director it’s your fault we’re late.”

“Ouch, I thought you were invested in saving my life.” She leaned against a column with arms crossed.

“I’ve changed my mind now. You’re too annoying.”

Hunter laughed softly as she pushed herself from the wall she grabbed a shirt. “After you then.” She then made a grand sweeping gesture as the hacker moved out of the room, following closely behind her; she pulled it on as they went.

______________________

“As I said earlier, this was not an accident. What we needed to find out was whether it was corporate espionage or terrorism.” Matalon looked at each of her subordinates seated at the round table in the black room, a sound proof, virtually impenetrable dead zone where they reviewed sensitive projects. “What do you think Dougal?”

“I dunna ken, but I don’t think it could be espionage. Those greedy bastards know ATLAS exists; they wouldn’t chance us finding out.” He rubbed his beard in contemplation.

“Hmmm.” Matalon tapped her nails on the table, breaking the silence as they all thought. “We received a package from the doctor’s wife.”

“Dr. Burkenheim?” Hunter pipped up from across her boss.

“The very same. He left her this.” She slid thump drive across the table towards Meyer. “She had it with her the whole time, but wasn’t sure if she could trust us, that is until Agent Hunter took a bullet for her family and got them out safely.”

Meyer plugged in the drive to her tablet, tapped at the screen and within seconds, the holographic image of the documents hovered over the center of the table. She flicked her hand, scrolling through what little there were.

Frowning Meyer murmured. “There’s only two pages here, one of an insignia…what is that.” It was an image of an open palm outlined with white lines and runes intertwine across it.

“Palmam Tenebris.” _‘The Dark Palm.’_ Matalon whispered as her fists clenched white. _‘How is this possible?’_ Unease ran through her as the thought flittered through her mind. _‘She knew for a fact that those bastards had been disbanded, she helped to it for god’s sake.’_ “Goods news everyone.” Her voice was calm, too calm. “It’s not corporate espionage.”

“How do you know?” Hunter queried.

She cleared her throat, choosing to ignore the agent for the moment. What’s on the next page?”

“It’s an invitation.” Meyer’s eyes narrowed in concentration. “To a fundraiser in Mumbai this Friday.”

“What’s it for?” Dougal leaned closer to the table.

“It doesn’t say, but I’m cross-referencing all the events happening on that date.” She tapped away rapidly, the screen shifting to various images. “The only event going on that date that’ll fit is the International Conference on Innovation in Science and Technology. Makes sense, if people are after something from our labs.”

“What is by the way? What is project New Age?” Hunter turned to the director who shot her a quizzical look. “Burkenheim mentioned it briefly before, well, you know…” She trailed off as everyone turned their attention to the director.

With a sigh, she pinched the bridge of her nose. She had intended to tell them anyway, but the emergence of the _‘band of bastards’_ as she’s taken to calling the order, through a wrench in her plans. She didn’t want to involve them, but as the pounding in her quickened, she realized she may not have a choice.

“Project New Age is advance tech, specifically nanotechnology-”

“That’s science fiction.” Meyer scoffed.

The director shot the hacker a look that quieted her instantly.

“It was science fiction yes, but that was before Dr. Serena Van Visser decided she was up for the challenge. After two years she has two semi-working prototype, according to her report it just needs a few more tweaks.”

“I’m a bit lost here, this nanotechnology, it’s a good thing I take it?” Confusion laced the Scot’s voice.

“It’s revolutionary. One single cluster has around thirty million nonos and when it’s operational it’ll change the face of science. As of the latest testing, one cluster can be programmed to say, clean the ocean within a year and in few months they’ll reach the stage where it could be used to repair severe trauma or regenerate limbs. Think of the possibilities, it’s, it’s amazing really.”

“I’m sure those arseholes who attacked the base isna lookin’ for the remedy to climate change though.” The Scot grunted.

Matalon was quite for a few moments, lost deep in thought before she said lowly. “One cluster, no bigger than my palm,” She looked at her open hand as if imagining the cell, “could level an entire city within an hour, maybe two; and if it’s not programmed to stop, it’ll spread. It could take out an entire small island in a day, the entire continent within a year. The more clusters used, the shorter the time. Think about what this could do in the wrong hands.”

The room grew quite as the shock silenced their words.

“I’ll go.” Hunter’s voice was strained yet defiant.

“You were just shot lass, I dunna think that’s a good idea.”

“We’re the only ones in ATLAS who knows about Project New Age, so it has to be someone in this room. You’re a Chief, you can’t go, but me, I’m an agent, I’m expendable.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. No one is expendable, least of all you.” Meyer gritted with narrowed eyes, daring the agent to disagree with her.

“You heard the Director, we can’t let this tech get out, and we need to find out all that we can on Palmam Tenebris.”

“I’m running an algorithm as we speak.” She snapped back.

“And have you found anything?”

“Not yet, but give it a little time, you still wince when you walk.”

“Time is the one thing we don’t have Dali!” She shot, and then quickly corrected herself. “I mean Chief Meyer.”

The room watched the two volley back and forth, before the sharp voice of the Director cut through the two. “Enough. Chief Meyer, I will take your words under advisement, but Agent Hunter is right. This needs to be contained and we need eyes on the ground.” Turning to the blonde she continued. “Pass your physical tomorrow and you’re on the first flight out. Chief Meyer will work comms for you personally. Dougal arrange for a tac team to be on stand by for back up. Now you all have your order. Dismissed.”

When they all filed out of the room, the director could feel a vise grip tighten around her chest. Reaching for her phone, she dialed a familiar number, without waiting for the person on the other end to greet her she whispered.

“We have a problem.”

__________________

The smoke twisted in its artistic way, forming curls in the gloom, illuminated only by the age-speckled bar lights. Along the wall was every hue of amber liquid in their inverted bottles; a temptation Serena had fallen prey to tonight. She took a deep breath, trying to clear her mind of the wild thoughts that echoed across memories. She rose a shaky finger to call the barkeep, it might have been her tenth or eleventh drink, she’d lost count a while ago. From her peripheral, she watched the server approach with a dish towel thrown over her shoulder.

“Another.” Her voice was slightly slurred, but ever the aristocrat, her held was titled imperiously and her eyes hadn’t lost the spark of intelligent that would soon give way to a drunken haze. She would comport herself as befit her station.

Still, the bartender asked. “You sure? You’ve been throwing em back pretty hard.”

Even in her tipsy state, her heart raced and her cheeks tinged pink. The bartender was a pretty red head, and she’d always been a sucker for red heads, ever since that day in Marrakesh some seven years pass. She watched the girl as she eyed her, clearly liking what she saw from the glint in her eyes. It would be so easy to just open her mouth and invite her back to her place, maybe she could fuck this feeling right out of her system, but she knew better. She knew that no matter how much she tried, it was the same eyes, the same smile, and the same laugh that would haunt her. It was her fate to suffer in silence it seemed.

“I’m sure. Another.”

The woman watched her for a moment, her eyes searching. Having found whatever she was looking for, the woman nodded to herself a poured another glass. “Another glass of our finest crap my lady.”

Serena stilled at the title, but when she saw the amusement on the other woman’s face, she laughed lowly, _‘Oh, she was joking.’_

“Why thank you kind sir.” She decided to play along.

“Tell me, your accent, I don’t recognize it. Where’re you from?”

Taking a swig of the liquor, she drew back slightly and looked at the glass as she swallowed. “Oh, this truly is vile.” A grin was her only response. “To answer your question, I’m originally from Denmark. But I travel a lot so I pick up things here and there.”

“Wow, gorgeous, a sexy accent, well-travelled. What don’t you have?”

“I’m a scientist too.” Serena added for good measure and snorted when the woman fanned herself.

“Be still my heart.” She laughed.

“I-” Serena started but was interrupted.

“Can I get a beer?!” Someone yelled from the other end of the counter.

Looking over at the man who yelled, she raised her hand and told him to wait before turning to the other woman. “Duty calls, I’ll be right back.”

Serena tipped her glass to the other woman as she walked away. Maybe it was the flash of red or the impish look in the bartender’s eye, but Serena’s thoughts drifted to a different time.

_Serena rolled her eyes at the administrator. She had been in a Marrakesh for almost five days and she already felt as though it had been a waste of time. She had received an invitation over a month ago to an international convention and competition on engineering and technological advancements, yet the only advancement she could see was how quickly they were getting on her nerves._

_The speakers were subpar, half the things they had discussed as revolutionary she had mastered at a young age; and the competition was sorely lacking in innovation or intrigue. She was bored, disappointed and ready to pack it up and call it a day. She watched the man before her try in vain to convince her to see the next few weeks out, but she did not intend to sacrifice her time to such foolishness, she had already told him as much._

_She walked away as the man continued to ramble. She knew it was rude, but the man left her no choice. She quickly moved outside and down the steps, intending to get some fresh air and get away from the noise of it all. Closing her eyes, she titled her head to let the let the sun warm her skin. At twenty-one, she already knew that science was her first and only love, the only other thing she shared her heart with were her family, Cristobal, Andy and her godparents included. She knew she was beautiful, it wasn’t good or bad, it was just a fact, like the colour of the sun or the crash of the waves, it just is and that’s that._

_Oof! She would have been knocked to the ground if it had not been for the dance lessons Cristi’s mama had insisted they all do. She quickly spun on her heel, gripping the elbow of the flurry of red that had smashed into her. As she righted them both, she heard a soft crisp, English accent._

_“Oh no, I’m so sorry, are you okay?”_

_Maybe it was her voice, or the flaming red, or the gorgeous green under oversized spectacles, but Serena was completely charmed._

_“No damage done, I’m fine.”_

_The girl fiddled with her glasses with a little smile._

_“I didn’t see you there. Are you sure?”_

_“I’m sure, but how did you miss me? I’m so tall; my friends sometimes tease me and call me stretch.” She started rambling, and the nerves in the red head’s eyes was quickly replaced by amusement._

_“My head was buried in this.” She held up a book on poetry, then tucked a strand of hair behind her ear._

_“Poetry, do you li-”_

_“Emily!” A voice rang across the street. Looking over, they saw a girl waving frantically while yelling the name over again._

_Serena looked back down at the girl. Her hair was long and styled in a French braid, her clothes were three sizes too big and in drab colours, but that did nothing in Serena’s opinion, to take away from the girl’s classic beauty. ‘Emily. Was that the little English’s name. It’s pretty, like her.’_

_“I have to go.” She fiddled with her glasses again. “Nice meeting you, sorry again for almost knocking you down.”_

_“Anytime.” Serena whispered as she watched the girl quickly cross the street._

_Looking back on it, Serena would claim temporary insanity, but something, unlike anything she’d ever experience before, compelled her to move; and not only move, but to follow. She crossed the road too when the group was a little distance away and she followed. Her eyes riveted at the girl as she gazed awe struck at the structures around her. She laughed when the girl giggled and laughed with her friends._

_She smiled, when the girl stopped to take pictures, wishing it was her arms she were posing in and her heart melted when the girl stopped to give her recently bought ice cream to a little boy who was crying for his balloon that was blown away._

_It was the first time in Lady Serena Van Visser’s life that she was unsure. She was unsure how long she had been walking for, she was unsure where exactly she was now, she was unsure what had spurred her on to follow the girl and most importantly, she was unsure why she yearned for the girl to notice her and turn those bright green eyes and impish smile her way._

_Before she realized it, she had followed the girl unto a bus. Sitting down, she was momentarily stunned when someone blocked her view._

_“Excuse me?”_

_It took great pain for her to move her eyes to the middle-aged man who was standing before her. She frowned in annoyance._

_“Excuse me, but who are you?”_

_“I beg your pardon?” Her voice was clipped._

_“I think you have the wrong bus miss.” The man said, drawing the attention of the other occupants._

_The bus began to buzz with whispers as the occupants pointed and wondered who the striking new comers was. Seeing her frown deepen, the man continued._

_“This is the bus for King’s College students, and I’m sure you never came with us from Heathrow. Believe me…” He looked her up and down, “I’d have remembered.” He said lowly and Serena sneered in disgust._

_“I am-”_

_“Gizelle Fernando?” A woman called behind the man._

_“N-”_

_“The foreign exchange student we were supposed to meet at the airport when we landed.” She brushed passed the man and gave Serena a wide smile. “I’m Professor Lake, when you didn’t show up at the designated spot, I was a little worried, but I’m relieved you’re here. They only gave us your name and nothing else.”_

_“Ah, I see. You must be mis-” She peeked over and saw the red head watching with curiosity then finally recognition. She then gave a little wave and a small smile at the blonde whose brain short circuited for a minute. “That’s me, foreign exchange student. Me.”_

_“Yes, yes. Good. We’re going by our hotel, do you need us to stop for anything first? I don’t see any bags._

_“Oh? Oh! Bags yes, I’ll have it sent over. Thank you.” She flashed the woman a blinding smile and the woman was stunned into silence._

_As the two walked back to the front of the bus and Emily slowly made her way over to her, Serena felt her heart flutter. Maybe this trip wouldn’t be so bad after all, and as the girl sat beside her, she made a mental to note to have ATLAS find the where about of this Gizelle Fernando._

Serena was pulled from memory lane by the feeling of someone throwing their arm around her. She had never let her guard down so far that someone could sneak up on her so easily.

“Boom, you’re dead.”

She snorted in her glass at the familiar voice.

“Somehow I doubt my guards would allow that.”

“Still, I could’ve been super-fast, then what?”

Rolling her eyes, “Is there a reason why you’re here?”

“Is there a reason you’re not home yet or at the very least not in some dive bar, drinking god knows what?”

Serena shot her a look before continuing to nurse her insipid liquor.

“Ah, it’s one of those nights.” Andy sighed, deep and heavily. As of the whole world had just dropped its weight on her shoulders. “Pour me a cup?”

Serena raised her finger and signaled for another glass and the bottle of disgusting swill to be brought down from the shelf. “I’m taking the bottle.” She murmured to the girl, who nodded and was off again to tend to another customer. Pouring Andy a glass, the woman downed it in one go before coughing. “This is _vile_.” She muttered as she poured another glass, much to Serena’s amusement.

“I miss them.”

“They’ll be here soon, by next week your mama said.”

“Hmmm, doesn’t make it any easier.”

“I know.”

The two sat in silence, their presence comforting the other more than words could ever express. They sat there for what felt like hours, drinking the bottle dry, their guards keeping away bothersome company when they felt another presence. Looking up, they stared into concern hazel eyes, who watched the two with dawning realization.

“Ah, bellas, it’s one of those nights si?” He sat on a stool beside Serena, gesturing for a class. When he poured and downed the liquor, he choked. “This is _vile_.”

The two women snorted before dissolving into a fit of laughter while Cristi watched them with amused eyes.

____________

Andy pushed the button to Runway’s floors, her mind drifting far as the doors dinged closed. She needed to meet with Miranda about the Dubai fashion show and after their last meeting, well, she wanted to get it over as quickly as possible. She had seen the woman walking across the lobby yesterday and no matter how much she fought it, her eyes were drawn to the editor like an idiot moth to a very sadistic and unattainable flame.

She felt hopeless, and utterly and completely shameless. It didn’t matter what she was doing, whether she was on an important call or talking to an employee or Serena or Cristi, once the woman entered her line of sight, she was useless, completely useless and the worst of it all is that she could feel that the woman relished in it. She would look at her with smug satisfaction, as if she was the one who had done all the shagging, yet Miranda preened as though she had won.

Her lips curling into a pleased smirk she looked the picture of the cat who ate the canary. She would sashay pass the aristocrat, just out of reach as the brunette’s hands clenched with the desire to grab her, then the woman would glide pass, with an extra sway in her hips and Andy like the idiot she is, she falls for it. Every. Damn. Time. The woman was playing games; some twisted one uping game with her, like she wanted to suck her just to have the desire of throwing her back out, but Andy would not be beaten.

Yet, Andy’s eyes would be drawn to the fullness and swell of the editor’s hips down the taunt line of her arse, she would watch the subtle bounce of the flesh, the pull of the charcoal material outlining a distinct curve- Andy cleared her throat, and tugged at her collar, damn the woman. It was mortifying, to still lust after a woman who threw you out of their house after a quick tumble. That had never happened to the beautiful aristocrat, never, ever before. She was always the one who did the tossing and yet here she was, her body reacting on ways it never had before whenever the woman so much as enter a room.

It was infuriating.

As the elevator doors opened, Andy strode down the Runway corridor and without stopping, straight into Miranda’s office.

“Whoever you are, if you think you have acceptable reason for barging into my office, you are sorely mistaken.” She had raised her head from the photos she was perusing.

“We need to talk.”

Miranda’s head snapped up, and her eyes narrowed at the brunette who met her stare head on.

“As I said, you are sorely mistaken.”

“I don’t have the _time_ for your foolishness. I said we need to talk.”

“If you’re here to talk about that mediocre night, I assure you, it’s already forgotten.”

Andy was stunned into silence for a split second before steam rose and her skin flushed red in anger. “Yes, but you see, the scratches on my back haven’t healed as yet, so it’s hard for me to forget. Who would have thought the Ice Queen would be such a wild cat in bed.” Andy smirked. She had no intention of bringing up that night, but Miranda seemed to always know how to push her buttons.

The room descended into a chill and rose into an inferno. They stared at each other with narrowed eyes, the other refusing to back down.

“I came here to talk about Dubai.”

“What of it?” Miranda snapped.

As Andy opened her mouth to respond, a loud voice drew their attention to the outer office.

"I don't give a damn what she's doing. I want to see Miranda right now."

Miranda sighed and pursed her lips while Andy frowned, it couldn’t be. Steeling herself from the impending confrontation, Miranda sat back in her chair. She remained seated when he stomped inside, arms flailing

“You bitch! I want to talk to you!” He snarled. He was clearly intoxicated from the strong waif that accompanied his presence.

_‘Lovely.’_ She thought.

“I seem to remember telling you quite clearly to behave yourself.” Andy’s voice was cold and sharp as she watched the disheveled man sway and wobble in her editor’s office. “This is not behaving yourself Irving.”

“She, she ruined my life and now I’ll ruin hers!”

"You are welcome to do so." Miranda said with a gracious nod. “Tell me Irv, the embezzlement, tax evasion fraud wasn’t enough for you? Are you aiming to add assault too?”

He crossed to the coffee table in the middle of the room in a few long strides and rested his fists on the surface. "You owe me."

Andy frowned. “Wasn’t I the one that ruined your life? I’m confused.”

“You shut up! I’ll get to you after!”

Andy’s eyes widened in amusement. “Oh? Is that so? You’ve made me very curious Irving, and I must say that doesn’t happen very often.”

Miranda finally rose from her seat to large pane windows behind her desk. Brushing her finger of her lower lip, she spoke in a bored monotone voice that was eerily unnerving. “Ah, so it’s my fault then that you stole all that money and made so many bad investments? Oh wait, is also my fault that you suffer from some little man syndrome and thought the only cure was to buy a boat and a really fast car to flaunt?” She spoke to him as though he were slow.

Andy coughed to hide her amusement as Miranda flayed the man. She really was a sight to behold. “Leave Irving, you’re on bail remember, don’t make me have security drag you out.”

“I’ll kill you!” Irv roared and dove to grab at Miranda but Andy was between them in a flash. She grabbed the man by the collar and threw him to the ground.

“I’ll only say this once Irving, leave. You’re a mild irritation now, but continue this and I will lose my patience and my temper. I strongly advise against that.” Her voice was low and almost deadly.

“She always wins!” He yelled again and shot to his feet, his fist swinging in the air.

Andy steeled herself for impact and her head slightly jerked from the impact of his hand. She could hear Miranda gasp behind her. The room stilled. Slowly turning her head back to him, she raised an arm and wiped the trickling blood from her cheek with a thumb.

“Good Irving, very good. Now when I kill you, I’ll have a defence.” Her smile was feral and her eyes were wild. Irv took a step back, instantly regretting coming here.

Without warning, Andy grabbed him by the neck and drew him kicking, screaming and clawing at her hands through the doors. He gasped as her steel grip tightened. “You dare try to touch her.” She snarled at him lowly as shiver raced up his spine. “After I gave you an out, you come here and threaten her?” She threw him to the ground by the elevators as the doors dinged open and her guards as well as Elias-Clarke security filed through it. “Get him out of here!” She snapped at the security before turning to one of her own. “Contact my lawyer, the bastard is broke; I want to know who bailed him. And fire whoever let him in the building!” Taking a handkerchief from one of her men, she wiped away the blood on her cheek before storming through the emergency stairwell.

_______________________

Andy sat on one of the lounge chairs on her office balcony. A cool rich single malt swirling in her cup as she watched the sun set over the city skyline. She heard her office door creak and assumed it was her assistant coming to put some files on her desk and retrieve other.

“I thought I told you to go home earlier.” She threw over her shoulder when her assistant stood at the door of her balcony.

“When have I ever done anything you’ve told me to do?”

Her brows rose slightly, the only evidence of her surprise at Miranda’s presence.

“Come to berate me? Call me something the equivalent of a Neanderthal with that quick sharp wit of yours?”

“I could.”

Andy took another sip of her drink, her eyes had yet to leave the view in front of her as the sun dwindled and gave way to stars. Miranda rolled her eyes at Andy’s lack luster retorts and walked over to the woman with a purpose. Tilting the younger woman’s chin up to get a better look at her face and the evidence of the altercation with Irv. She delicately thumbed away a streak of dried blood that had trickled down near her mouth, saying nothing while she examined it. After a brief pause. Andy noticed the dark clouds rolling behind artic eyes. How unexpected, considering the two were at each other’s throats constantly. Andy though Miranda would have found some glee in it all.

When Miranda spoke, her voice was quiet and tense, her anger barely restrained.

“Why did you stop him?”

Jerking her chin from Miranda’s grasp, Andy emptied her glass and scoffed. “I didn’t know you cared.”

“I don’t.” She snapped back.

“Of course you don’t.” She laughed. Dry and without humour. “You’ll be happy to know that my people investigated the budget approvals. They were forged, turns out Irv stole more than we thought and was setting you up to take the fall.”

“I thought as much.” She pursed her lips in anger at the awful little man.

“Now that you know your name is unsullied, you can go. I have work.”

Hating to be dismissed, Miranda stilled for a moments.

“What? Waiting on another mediocre fuck?”

“Must you be so crude?” Miranda sneered back.

“Must you be such an arse?”

“And to think I came to…” She shook her head at her own foolishness.

“ _What?_ ”

“To say…thank you,” She gritted the words out as though they were acid on her tongue. “for dealing with that idiot.”

Andy was stunned for a second. Well that was unexpected.

“You’re…you’re welcome.” She whispered back unsure where this was going.

“Hmmm.” Miranda gathered her things to go. “Put some ice on that before it swells.” She said offhandedly.

Andy plopped herself into her chair ungracefully. “Chicks dig black eyes.” She said with an awful American accent and cheeky grin.

“Idiot.” Miranda rolled her eyes, leaving the room with the sound of Andy’s low laugh trailing behind her.

It was almost as if they were going through the motions; quip after quip, but without any weight. The words were no less harsh but the biting sting that usually accompany their squabbles was gone.

Miranda didn’t know how to feel about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. Even the little things. – B.S.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. Here’s another chapter, stay safe and I hope you enjoy. – B.S.

The sun had barely risen over the horizon. Filling the sky with a wonderful array of burnt orange and red hues. Andy had been up for a few hours, unable to reclaim the sleep she had been jarred from, so now she sat peering through one of the large glass windows overlooking the skyline. She would soon need to get ready for work, but right now, she only desired to sit in silence and sort through her thoughts. The only sound that hummed in the background was the slight hustle and bustle of the kitchen and cleaning staff, who were doing their best to give her as much privacy as possible.

Andy fiddled with the envelope in her hand. She had only received it the day before and was unsure if she should promise her attendance. It was an invitation to a charity ball hosted at the British Consulate General and it was for a cause that was dear to her and her family, but she lacked the motivation that would normally accompany such a call. She’d been out of sorts as of late, even with the fading bruise on her cheek, she still felt agitated and on edge. Something wasn’t right, but she was unable to pin point the problem. Her suspicions went unsatisfied and by virtue, she felt constantly unsettled.

“What’s that?” Cristi murmured as he stumbled down the stairs, sleep still marring his eyes and roughening his voice.

“Hmmm?” She said absently.

One of the housekeepers brought a tray with his morning coffee the way he liked it, which he took with a grateful smile and a low “Gracias.” Taking a sip, he breathed deeply in appreciation before continuing. “The envelope, you’ve been twiddling with it a while now.”

“Ah, yes.” She shook the paper before sliding it across the table. “It’s an invitation for the Consulate Ball and I’m to represent Westminster.”

“You don’t look too excited about.” He was confused, yes, they were sometimes reluctant to do such things, but when it came to charities, they never hesitated.

“It’s not that, I just don’t feel up to the crowd and arse kissing.”

He tilted his head. “I see, so you’re not going then?”

“No, I have to. Mum called me already and she had that _‘look’_ in her eye.”

He snorted in his cup, knowing that look like he knew the back of his hand. It was the look that made them think twice before doing or saying something they knew would get them into trouble. Reaching over, he pulled the contents from its package and looked at it. His brows raised, it was tonight, and very much last minute.

“Do you need a plus one bella?”

“I’m thinking of taking an Elias-Clarke representative.”

He frowned. “Why?”

“The company is still recovering from the embezzlement and fraud scandal. Taking the time to support a charity and give a sizeable donation would be good for our image, no?’

Cristi’s frown deepened. Andy was never one to exploit such things for business reasons. Something was up.

“I was thinking of maybe inviting…” She shrugged. “Miranda.” She tried appearing nonchalant, but Cristi saw the shift in her eyes and the slight tense of her shoulder. And there it was.

“Miranda? As in Miranda Priestly, editor of Runway?”

She sipped her tea without commenting.

“I would think you’d take a board member or someone of the sort.” He pushed.

“Yes well, I’ve heard that she can be charming and such when she wants to be, and we need someone like that to win over the room.” She waved him away.

“Oh? And you’re not up to the challenge?” His voice was both incredulous and amused. Andy was grasping at straws. Charming? He snorted to cover up the laugh. Everyone knew that no one could work a room like one Lady Andrea of Westminster.

She eyed him, in that moment she looked so much like her mother that Cristi guffawed. “Lo siento.” He held up his hands in mock surrender, a grin stretching across his face.

Andy sniffed in indignation, it was not the reaction she was hoping for; and so with a roll of her eyes, she rose from her chair. “I’m going to get ready for work.”

Cristi hummed, going back to his coffee, he made a mental note to bring up his suspicions with Nigel when he saw him tomorrow.

______________________

Miranda sipped her coffee, watching in mild amusement as her daughters barreled into the room like a herd of elephants.

“Girls.” She chided softly. “Must you stampede through the house?”

“Sorry mom.” Caroline shot her a grin as she grabbed a waffle from one of the plates on the table, while Cassidy offered her a small smile before digging into her breakfast.

They had resumed school this week and the excitement and joy of leaving the house fueled their haste every morning. Miranda wondered how long it would last until she had to return to threats to get them out of bed in mornings.

Her thoughts drifted as he daughters inhaled their breakfast.

“Mom, you okay?” Cassidy piped up at their mother’s silence.

“Hmmm?” Miranda hummed distractedly.

“Mom!” Caroline yelled.

“Caroline! No yelling at the table.”

“Sorry, but you kinda zoned out.”

Miranda shot her daughter a look at the grammar, but her daughter only gave her an impish smile. A smile that reminded her of a certain brunette whenever she did something that she knew Miranda wouldn’t approve of. God, she groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. Now she was seeing the irritating woman in her daughter’s actions. She really needed to get a hold of herself.

“What were you asking Cassidy?” She decided to ignore her wandering mind.

“I was asking if you were okay.”

“Oh, well of course I am Bobbsey. Why do you ask?”

“You seemed a bit…distracted?” She turned to her sister, the two locking themselves into a silent conversation before Caroline gave her sister an encouraging nod. Cassidy turned back to her mother. “Are you-are you dating somebody?”

Miranda almost choked on the sip she had just taken. Putting down her cup, she took a napkin and dabbed the corner of her mouth. “Wha-”

“It’s just that you’re acting like Megan when she was crushing on Joey.” Her daughter rushed out with record speed before her cheeks turned pink. No one wanted to talk to their mom about these things. “Sooooo, are you crushing on someone?” Her voice squeaked at the end as her cheeks deepened red.

Miranda was completely floored and for the first time, she was truly speechless. Beside her sister, Caroline watched her with amused knowing eyes while she munched on her banana, daring her mother to deny what she already knew. Miranda was impressed with her daughters’ newfound ability of stunning her into silence.

“I, no Bobbsey. Mummy is not seeing anyone and I don’t have a-have a…crush.” She said the word as if it were the most offensive thing she had ever heard.

Cassidy eyed her disbelievingly, but it was Caroline who spoke this time. “You sure, cuz-oof!” Cassidy elbowed her sister and shook her head quickly before nodding to their mother.

Miranda watched her children speak to each other with their eyes before swing back to her. She felt herself jump slightly as two sets of eyes zeroed in on her, calculating and slightly narrowed. _‘Good lord, was that how I looked?’_ She thought. It was deeply unsettling on the faces of two who still wore onesies to bed sometimes.

“I-” She began.

“We’re gonna be late for school mom.” Caroline interrupted.

She cleared her throat. “Yes, yes of course. Your driver is waiting outside.”

Running up to her, they each pressed a kiss to her cheek before grabbing their bags and running through the house. “Bye Mom!” “Later Mom!” were thrown over their shoulders as the front door slammed.

Miranda slowly blinked. _‘What just happened?’_

______________________

“Miranda, I just received an email from her Ladyship’s assistant.” Emily began.

Miranda mentally rolled her eyes at the title but her interest was piqued so she gestured for the younger to continue.

“She has sent an invitation for a charity event, um tonight.” Emily winced when Miranda’s eyes narrowed.

“Charity event? I wasn’t aware Runway had anything planned for tonight.”

She hadn’t look up from the proofs she was browsing through but Emily could feel the chill coming off the other woman at being caught off guard. “This, it isn’t a Runway event.”

“Oh?” She finally looked up with a purse of her lip. Emily felt faint. “Then why has my presence been requested?”

“I…don’t actually know.”

“Hmmm, of course not. Inform _her Ladyship_ that I’m busy. That’s all.” She murmured and returned to her work, effectively dismissing the red head.

“But-”

Miranda’s head shot up.

“I will get right to it Miranda.” Emily quickly left the office and returned to her desk in record time, her heart quickening as she picked up the phone.

It only took a few moments before Andy was standing at Emily’s desk.

“My Lady-”

“None of that. It’s Andy.”

Emily chocked. The Americans might not truly grasp the power, wealth and nobility behind the Westminster title, but as her majesty’s subject, Emily was painfully aware who stood before her.

“I-I don’t think-”

Andy’s brows raised. “English? Excellent. It feels nice talking to someone without an accent here, reminds me of home.” She winked as Emily flushed.

“I know the feeling.” Emily’s lips tilted up. She was expecting an entitled, high-strung prat, not someone who seemed…calm and genuinely friendly.

“Hold Miranda’s call for a bit won’t you? We have matters to discuss.”

For the second time that day, Emily winced. Seeing the other woman’s cringe, Andy laughed lowly. “Don’t worry Red, it’ll be civil.”

Emily shot her a disbelieving look.

“It’ll be mostly civil.”

Emily rolled her eyes, and then caught herself quickly, but the other woman was smiling at her, amusement glinting in her eyes.

“I’ll see you around Red.” Andy threw over her shoulders as she walked into inner office.

“I’m not going.” Miranda hadn’t even bothered looking up when Andy entered the room.

“Why ever not?” The brunette sat in the chair across from Miranda’s desk. Crossing her legs as she gave the woman her full attention.

“I have no idea what gave you the impression that I have to explain myself to you, but it is sorely mistaken.”

“Come off it Miranda, it’ll be good for Elias-Clarke if you’re there.”

“I’m sure.” Her voice was dry.

“And in turn good for Runway.” She finished. “I won’t force you, it’s entirely your choice, but come on Miranda, it’s for charity.”

With a sigh, Miranda looked up. “What time?”

“8 o’clock. I’ll pick you up-”

“I am able to get there on my own.”

“Do you know where there is?”

Miranda arched her brow.

“Fine, fine. You know you don’t have to look so put out. Many people would love to be my plus one.”

“Then ask them.” Miranda’s eyes returned to her work, ignoring the other woman.

Andy grew quite after sighing in exasperation at the woman before her. Shooting her one last look before walking to the door, she stopped and turned, rubbing the back of her neck. “You look, you look beautiful today by the way.”

Miranda’s eyes snapped up but by then the woman was already gone. A slow blush crept up the older woman’s neck, but her eyes narrowed. “What are you playing at Andrea Sachs?” She whispered to the room.

_____________________

Andy had arrived a quarter to nine, looking stunning in her Italian tailored suit. Cristi and Serena had snickered at her choice as she dressed. Wearing a suit wasn’t unusual for her, but they both knew, even if she didn’t, that she was dressed dashingly with one particular person in mind. The Ambassador and other high-ranking official greeted her with the pomp and flare that befitted her station. She hand mingled and charmed for a few minutes before moving to the corner of the room surrounded by her guards.

Miranda had yet to arrive and the aristocrat was beginning to feel mildly irritated. Taking a sip from her flute, her eyes were scanning the room when it happened. It was though a hush had fallen over the occupants and Andy felt every strand of hair on her body stand up and a warmth tingle up her spine. She had noticed, from the first time they met, that she would get this strange sensation whenever Miranda would enter a room that she was in. It was an intoxicating feeling.

Andy scanned the room once more, until her eyes finally found the older woman. Miranda was truly a vision to behold. She was dressed in a long shoulder free black dress, her silver hair perfectly coiffed, her skin glowing in the warm light of the room. The dress accentuated the curves of her body, showing a wonderful amount of creamy skin and cleavage, causing the younger woman swallow hard. Around her neck was simple diamond studded choker that was accented by two teardrop diamond earrings. She was a classic beauty, the kind that would have graced the screens during the twenties and thirties, she carried with her an air and grace that rivaled most royals and aristocrats that Andy knew.

Andy moved pass her guards and slowly made her way to Miranda. Her mind was chaos, and she felt as though she would be unable to form a coherent sentence because of the stunning beauty before her.

Miranda felt Andy presence before she saw her. It was like a slow heat crawling across the surface of her skin, her fingers and her stomach tingled and she knew the girl was near. Turning slightly from the man who was going on and on about something or the other. Miranda watched as Andy closed in. The woman eyed her with such hunger and desire that for a second Miranda was speechless; her breath was no longer even and calm, but shallow as her heart rapidly hammered against her chest.

The brunette was sinfully dressed, in a form fitted suit, that accentuated every curve, draping her body with such an evident sensuality, managing with ease to retain her femininity. Miranda was captivated, and for a moment, she lost all reason. Desire burned within her, warming her chest as a faint red rose to her neck.

Andy, ignoring the crowd that gathered around the enthralling editor, took her hand and pressed a gentle kiss to her palm. “You are incredibly beautiful.” She whispered so that only the fashion icon could hear.

“Yes, well-” Miranda’s breath caught at Andy’s darkening eyes. “You clean up rather well yourself.”

“So I have met the approval of Miranda Priestly?” She arched her brow with a grin. “Now I have truly accomplished everything.”

“Are you so easy to please my Lady?” The title lacked the usual disdain she would normally say it with. “That’s disappointing.”

“Only when the validation comes from you.” Andy returned with a subtle wink.

Someone cleared their throat, breaking the little bubble the two had created around themselves.

“My Lady.” The president of the charity, who she had yet to meet, bowed his head slightly. “It’s truly a pleasure and honour that you’re here with us tonight.”

“Yes of course, Westminster and Elias-Clarke make it a point to always maintain our donations. I’m sure you’ve all met Miranda Priestly, editor in chief of Runway.”

There was a collective murmur of yeses and nods as Andy stood beside her. Miranda watched as the room interacted with Andrea, eyeing her with lust, awe and just a hint of devotion. She had ensnared the room already. Miranda was impressed. Andy made a point to include Miranda in all her conversations, asking her opinions and allowing the woman to set the pace most of the time. 

Those around her eyed Miranda with looks dripped in envy, even as it fought the evident desire and curiosity most of them was feeling towards her. Miranda mentally snorted. Andrea was born into a social class that far superseded hers. Miranda Priestly would always be the social climber to people like Andrea's peers, the poor Jewish girl from the back streets of some fly over state that no one cared about.

It was the first time the two interacted without being at each other’s throats, it was an interesting experience for Miranda to say the least. She watched Andrea charm the room with her easy smile and twinkling eyes, when she spoke to someone, she made them feel as though they were the only person in her universe, treating them like old friends. Ever the gentlewoman, Andy excused herself to fetch drinks for Miranda who also excused herself to go to the washroom.

As Miranda washed her hands, a woman came out of one of the stalls, tittering with her make up in the mirror as the editor dried her hands.

“You came with Lady Andrea didn’t you?”

Miranda gave her a side eye and continued wiping her hands.

The woman continued without care. “She’s so lovely.” She sighed wistfully, much to Miranda’s chagrin. “What I wouldn’t give to be Nadia.”

Miranda stopped short. “Nadia?” Her voice was low and frosty.

“Nadia, you don’t know about Nadia?” She said innocently, but her eyes was sharp and deliberate. “Oh? She was Lady Andrea’s…paramour. They had a world wind romance a few months ago, unfortunately she was married, you really didn’t know?”

“Whatever the Lady does, is no business of mine.” She eyed the woman as if she were lower than dirt. “I suggest you think the same.” She then left the room in a flurry of white hair and disdain.

As she made her way outside into the main ballroom, Andy stepped behind her, so close Miranda could feel her breath on her shoulder. “Here you are.” Andy murmured softly by her ear then handed her the flute of champagne.

Miranda stiffened momentarily, her jaw clenched as she reached for the glass, her fingers brushing against Andrea’s.

“We can stay for a bit longer then you’ll be free.”

Miranda blinked at her. “I’ve heard the most peculiar thing.” She raised an eyebrow.

“Oh?”

“Hmmm, Nadia?”

Andy groaned, shaking her head. “Not you too.”

"Oh, my," Miranda said, and pressed her lips together as she smirked.

“Miranda-”

“Married Andrea? I never took you as they type. Tell me were you caught?” Miranda smirked, her eyes gleaming.

“I had to run out onto the roof in broad day light.” Andy said before she could stop herself. As the words left her mouth, she closed her eyes, wishing for the ground to open and swallow her whole.

Miranda stared at her wide-eyed. Andy froze in hope that the woman hadn’t heard her. A strange sound made Andy peek through her right eye. It almost sounded like a…a giggle? Now it was Andy who stared dumbstruck at the editor amazed.

Then Miranda Priestly burst out laughing. Her shoulders shook, her eyes went wide, and her lips parted in incredulous glee. It was light and airy and truly, the best thing Andy had ever heard. "What?" She gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth too late to stifle herself as every eye in the room drew to them.

Jarred from her daze, Andy stepped closer to her. “Miranda!” She sputtered, which only spurred the woman into another round of laughter at her reddening face.

“Oh my,” Miranda said, and pressed the hand to her breast as she let out another peal of laughter. “At least you had on clothes.”

“Of course.” She hissed much too quickly.

“You didn’t!" Miranda chortled as he skin flushed.

“I-I, it was underwear, underwear are clothes.” Andy snapped, as her cheeks flamed, refusing to tell Miranda how she’d had to scale the balconies of the hotel in nothing but her La Perla while a very angry Gustav screamed at her over the ledge. She groaned once more in humiliation.

“Oh, how delightful.” Miranda took a deep breath finally calmed herself as those around them looked on in amusement at the editor’s reaction to whatever the young Lady had said. She hadn’t laughed like that since who knows when. “I hope to meet her one day.”

Andy narrowed her eyes. “You wouldn’t dare woman.”

“Calm yourself, when would I get the chance?” she chuckled, waving her hand. Refusing to admit to herself how the low husk of the term _‘woman’_ coming from Andrea’s lips sent a shiver running down her spine, causing her to shift on her feet.

“Mhmm.” Andy hummed in disbelief, but her eyes were riveted to the other woman.

Miranda’s cheeks were a light pink, her smile was easy and natural and her eyes glinted with mirth, and dare she say…fondness. She didn’t look like the woman who she was constantly toe to toe with, or the woman who had basically kicked her out so coldly after that impromptu one night stand. She looked…she looked breathtaking and Andy found herself smiling, affection sparkling her eyes as she rolled them at the woman’s behaviour.

Her eyes then lowered to Miranda’s lips that were still stretched into a smile. Remembering how they felt against hers.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Andy responded with smirk.

“What?” Her eyes narrowed slightly.

“Nothing.” Andy whispered as she moved closer to the editor.

The clearing of a throat caused the two turn to the new comer.

Miranda frowned. _‘It was the woman from the restroom.’_

Andy’s brows rose.

“Nadia?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. – B.S.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. Here’s another chapter, stay safe and I hope you enjoy. – B.S.

_“Nadia?”_

“Andy.” The blonde’s voice was breathless as she eyed Andrea up and down, drinking the woman in hungrily.

“What are you doing here?” Andy frowned in confusion.

The woman pouted and batted her eyes at her as Miranda’s own narrowed at the girl. “What? Don’t you miss me?”

“I-I-” Andy looked trapped as she glanced at Miranda; the helpless frustration was clear in her eyes.

Miranda said nothing as the blonde blatantly ignored her, but she could read the clear demand of _‘do something!’_ shining through the brunette’s eyes.

Miranda smirked slightly; it was so subtle that if you weren’t really looking, you’d have missed it. Her shoulders rose a fraction – _what do expect me to do?_

Andy’s gaze flickered to Nadia who was closing in on her – _Please!_

Miranda’s lips pursed and she arched a brow – _You do you realize that, that_ – she pointedly looked at the blonde before returning her gaze - _is all your fault. Maybe you should find a balcony to jump out of?_

Andy scowled slightly – _You’re having fun with this aren’t you?_

Miranda tapped her lips as the woman now clung to the Lady – _Immensely_

Andy huffed, straining to get away as the woman murmured nonsense into her neck – _The next shoot, I’ll take the limit off the budget._

Miranda’s brows rose in surprise then narrowed slightly – _The next two._

Andy gaped, scowled – _Why you!_ – She then jumped when Nadia’s hands descended into inappropriate areas – _Fine! Just do something woman!_

When Miranda tilted her head, her eyes caught the woman who was attempting to mimic a koala. The woman was watching their silent exchange with narrowed hostile eyes.

“I don’t believe we’ve met.” She spat at the editor.

“Oh? We haven’t? I could have sworn I someone approached me in the restroom with the same garish makeup prattling on and on.” The words were low but biting.

The tension rose between the two, but Miranda knew this was neither the time nor the place to cause a scene, so while shooting Nadia a sardonic smile she spoke to Andrea. “I believe you said we’d be free in a few minutes. It’s been a few minutes and I grow bored of the-” She eyed the blonde up and down and judging by the look in her eyes, she had weighed her and found her very much wanting. “Company. They’re just letting anyone in here aren’t they?”

Andy chocked on her champagne as Nadia sputtered.

“You’re one to talk you old bitch!” She seethed as she stalked towards the editor who eyed her disinterestedly.

“Nadia!” Andy stepped forward, clasping the woman’s arm before she went any closer. “Enough of this.” She hissed.

“You’re defending her!” She shrieked, drawing a few eyes.

“You’re making a scene.”

“A scene?! I’ll scratch out her eyes.” She tried pulling her hand free

“I can’t allow you to touch her.” Her voice grew cold and her hand tightened slightly.

“You-you-Andy!”

Andy sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with the other hand. “Where is Gustav, Nadia? You know, your husband?”

She sputtered. “I thought you and I could-could-”

“Nadia, it was one time, a mistake. We both know it was. You’re married and I’m…” Her eyes flittered to Miranda for a second before returning to the woman who was tearing up. “Not interested anymore.”

Around them, Andy guards closed in around them, offering the trio a modicum of privacy.

“You giving me up for that, that old hag.” She gritted.

“Careful Nadia, I’m trying to be civil, but insult her once more and you’ll not like it.”

Nadia’s eyes widen in surprise. She had never heard Andy speak to her like that. The woman had only ever spoken to her with fondness and amused, airy laughs, so she was truly stunned by the harsh, coldness that stung her.

“I-I apologize. I’ve over stepped.”

“Look Nadia, we were friends first right?” She offered the woman an earnest smile. “How about we just back track and try it again?”

The woman sighed as she eyed the dimples and the twinkling eyes she had fallen for. With a roll of her eyes, she patted the other woman’s cheek. “Why not, I can’t deprive you of all this.” She gestured to herself, earning herself a low laugh from her former lover.

“Very true.” Her smile grew wide and the tension drained from her with ease.

Taking her in one last time, she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the other woman’s cheek, lingering much to Miranda’s annoyance. “I’ll see you around…lover.” She said it loud enough that Miranda and those around them would hear.

Miranda bristled when the woman brushed pass her.

“What?” Andy tried for innocence as Miranda’s eyes narrowed at her. “What?” She said again, when the editor rolled her eyes and stalked off. “I seriously don’t understand women.” She muttered to herself as she quickly followed the woman to the exit.

____________________

Cristi peeped the horn of his newly acquired convertible, signaling to the other man that he had arrived. He texted the art director a few minutes ago to meet him outside and so he waited for the telltale sound of the main doors slamming shut. 

He looked up, lowering his sunglasses to the tip of his nose as he watched the older man strut down the stairs in casual Armani. The way he walked, the easy smile on his face, the way he ran his hand over his head whenever he was nervous or in deep though, Cristi was truly smitten.

Quickly jumping from his car, he rounded the crisp candy apple red with the ease and swagger of man who was Adonis come to life, and he knew it. He opened the passenger door with a flourish and a grin. “Your carriage awaits hermoso.” He slammed the door closed before leaning over the other man, tugging his chin up, he pressed his lips against his, sucking and biting at his lips before pulling free.

Nigel flushed as the man tugged back down his sunglasses with a smirk before rounding the car and entering the driver’s side.

“So, where are we going?” Nigel asked as they pulled out into the street.

“It’s a surprise.” He shot him a wink before turning back to focus on the road.

Nigel groaned. “I hate surprises.”

“No you don’t.”

“No I don’t.” He sniffed. “How’d you know?”

“Because of the way your eyes lit up when I said the word _‘surprise.’_ You can’t fool me Nigel Kipling.”

Nigel felt a shiver run up his spine at the way Cristi’s mouth curled around his name

“You don’t play fair.”

Grabbing his hand, Cristi pressed a kiss to the other man’s palm. “When it comes to you, of course not.”

Within a few moments, they pulled into what seemed to be an abandoned firehouse. Nigel frowned when Cristi got out and moved to open his door.

“This is my surprise?” He tried his best not to sound too disappointed, but based on the amused look Cristi was shooting him he knew he had failed.

“Let’s go misterio; I want to show you something.”

Tugging at the other man’s hand. Cristi drew him through the dilapidated doors into wide-open space. Around them the walls were crumbling and the ceiling looked as if it were about to cave in.

“What do you think? It’s fantastic no?” The excitement was palpable in Cristi’s voice but Nigel was still very much confused.

“I, I don’t understand.”

“The Benavente Gallery doesn’t have a presence in New York, so I thought I’d make this my project for the next few weeks, maybe the next few months.”

“Few months?” Nigel hadn’t realize how much he had suppressed the thought of Cristi leaving soon, but the mere mention that he would probably be here for a few months sent a wave of relief and joy though him that was staggering. 

“Si.” Cristi eyed him with a wide smile, clearly pleased with himself. “Maybe longer, who knows?” Cristi was nervous at first, he wasn’t sure if the older man had thought it all a fling and he was afraid he might have overstepped and was acting ‘clingy’. Now, as he watched the art director’s eyes sparkle in excitement, he was filed with nothing but relief.

“I see it now.” He spun on his heels. “It’s fabulous.”

“You think so.” Cristi’s eyes were earnest as followed the man as he surveyed the building.

“Oh yes, you can knock down this wall so you’ll have more natural light. Oh! And you could…”

Nigel rattled off his ideas, the art director taking over as his vision for the building came to life. After a few minutes, when he realized Cristi wasn’t responding, he turned. The other man was leaning on a wall across from him, a strange look on his face as he watched Nigel. His eyes were soft and his lips titled up.

“I’m sorry.” Nigel laughed nervously. “I’m rambl-”

“Not at all misterio.” He pushed himself off the wall and slowly walked over to him. “I love how excited you are, it’s –” He pecked him on the lips. “it’s beautiful.”

Rolling his eyes, Nigel laughed. “Sure.”

“I’m serious. Your eyes, they, they light up and you talk a mile a minute. I can feel your passion. It’s very sexy misterio.” He murmured in Nigel ear before pressing a kiss behind it. When the man shivered, Cristi felt like he was on top of the world “Come, I want to show you some pieces that I’ll feature when construction is finished.”

“Hmm,” When Cristi tugged at his hand, Nigel gripped his forearm and pulled him towards him, catching the other man with his lips. Running his hand through Cristi’s thick mane, he kisses him with all his pent up sexual frustration, desire and longing he could muster. When he pulled back, Cristi was staring at him, with hazy dazed eyes and a silly grin on his lips. “Lead the way.” He whispered huskily with a smirk before strutting pass the Spaniard. As he moved across the room, he heard the low strain of an _‘Ay, dios mio’_ bringing the cheekiest grin to his face.

_______________

“Mom?’

“Yes Bobbsey?” Miranda looked up from the Book as her daughter entered the den.

After ignoring the CEO the night before after her and that _Nadia person’s_ spectacle, she’d called her driver and headed straight home. The woman had irritated her to no end. How dare she parade herself around, draping over Andrea as if they were, were _lovers!_ Her ire rose when she remembered that the woman had owned the title mere months before.

The way she held her, fondled her, pressing a kiss to her cheek with such familiarity and fondness caused Miranda’s blood to boil. How could Andrea be so, so carefree and wild with her affections. Miranda had always known that that Usurper was no good, now she had hard evidence. Smiling at another woman, the _gall_ she had!

Miranda felt her temper began to rise and instead chose to focus on her daughter. She would give that Andrea not a second more of her thoughts; she could jump off a cliff for all she cared.

“Mom!”

“Yes sweetheart?”

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what darling?”

“Zoning out.” Caroline eyed her curiously.

“Oh, well Mommy is sorry about that. What did you need?”

“Well Cass and I was wondering if we could go to the zoo today.”

“Today? But Cara has the day off.” Miranda frowned, she had a mountain of work to get through, and she only now got the chance to go through the Book because of the Ball last night.

“I know…we were hoping you would take us?” Caroline fidgeted nervously.

“With me?”

“Yeah, we haven’t spent much time together so we thought…you know what, never mind you’re busy.”

“No!” Caroline froze. “Of course I’ll take you both.” She offered her daughter a soft smile. “I’m never too busy for you both. Now go tell your sister to get dressed and give me a few minutes to wrap this up, okay?”

When she saw her daughter jump in excitement before running out of the room screaming for her sister, she knew she had made the right decision. She had felt guilty that she wasn’t spending enough time with them, especially when they were nearing the treaded teen years where they would listen to horrible music and hate her for no reason. These times with them were precious and she wanted to take full advantage, she smiled as she shook her head, hurriedly breezing through the last few pages.

___________________

Andy was bored. Serena was off at her makeshift lab on one of the floors of Elias-Clarke and Cristi was out nurturing his actually existent love life. She had finished a few calls and sorted through some paper work, but now she was aimless and the worse part was that she didn’t feel like for company. She just wanted something to occupy her time. Her mind drifted to a particular white haired editor who had been purposely ignoring her from the moment she stormed out of the Consulate. Andy was at a loss, she had been charming, funny, and there was barely any hostility between them, so she was at a loss where the night had gone wrong.

When she had told Crisit and Serena the night's events, they had laughed themselves to the ground. Cristi called her 'idiota' while Serena had patted her cheek affectionately with an eye roll. Neither told her what was wrong and refused to do so, saying "it come to you soon....hopefully."

So here she was, sure Nadia had been an unexpected variable, but Miranda hadn’t seemed bothered with the other woman, much to Andy chagrin, _‘she could’ve at least acted a little put out about the whole thing, a little jealousy wouldn’t have killed her,’_ Andy scoffed. But no, she was her usual Miranda self, unbothered and cool about the whole thing, then shifted 360 degree and once again Andy was the enemy.

Scrolling through her phone, Andy barely saw the different posts as her mind drifted to and fro with thoughts of the infuriating editor. As she scrolled, she slowed down and re read the post. They were having a new exhibit at the zoo today. _‘Huh, that doesn’t sound awful.’_ Andy thought as she rose from her chair. It sounded like an interesting way to kill a few hours before meeting Serena for dinner and it wasn’t too far, she could walk.

____________________

They had arrived and hour or so ago and the twins were buzzing with excitement as they pulled their mother. Miranda was dressed in close fitted jeans, ankle boots and an oversized cashmere sweater, casual, yet still maintaining the air of a fashion icon. She watched her daughters as they snickered and giggle to each other, most of the time they would turn to her and include her in on the joke, other times, she was content to watch them with each other.

“Mom!” Cassidy ran up to her breathing heavily. “Can we get ice cream, there’s a cart right there.” She pointed over her shoulder.

Miranda looked up to see Caroline waving furiously by an ice cream stand a few feet away. Pulling out her wallet, she handed her daughter the cash with a little extra in case they wanted anything else. “There you go Bobbsey.”

“Thanks mom, do you want anything?”

“No darling, I’ll be right here, so don’t stray too far okay?”

“ _Yes mom_.” Cassidy drew out in exasperation at her mother’s over protective behaviour.

“Good, now off you go.” She watched her daughter run back to her sister, joining the line that had formed.

She walked to a tree a few meters away to get away from the stinging rays of the sun. She made sure to keep her daughters in her line of sight, even as she took in the other families with curiosity and amusement.

“I must be hallucinating, is that Miranda Priestly in…jeans?” A voice snickered behind her.

Miranda stiffened and sharply turned. “What are you doing here?” Her eyes narrowed at her _boss._ The woman was dressed in jeans, a black and white Vans sneakers and a black tank top with white shapes littered across it, on her noes rested back aviators which she had pulled down to look the editor over.

“Not that I’m complaining.” She grinned, ignoring the other woman’s question.

“It’s Saturday morning shouldn’t you be slinking home from a scandalous liaison?” Miranda was annoyed yet her voice held a tinge of curiosity.

Hearing the lilt of intrigue, Andy latched on to it. “Would you be jealous if I were?”

Rolling her eyes, she turned from the woman with a scoff. “In your dreams _my Lady_.”

Eyes now glued to the editors jeans clad backside that flexed as she shifted, Andy was mesmerized and she stared shamelessly. “Actually, in my dreams you’re never jealous, in my dreams you just join in and-”

Miranda whirled around, catching the other woman with her eyes riveted to her backside; she smacked the woman’s arm with a force for both offences. “Have you no shame?!” She snapped.

Laughing, Andy rubbed at her arm, a minor inconvenience when her reward was those eyes blazing at her. “None at all.”

“Really, why are you here?” Miranda could feel the vein in her forehead pulse.

“I was bored.” Andy sighed dramatically. “But seeing you in those jeans has made it all better.”

“If you look at my ass one more time, I’ll kill you.”

Andy stared. “But what a way to go.” She murmured without care or self-preservation.

Miranda snorted at that, if not a bit pleased, but she would never admit to that. “You’re an idiot.”

With a wide grin, Andy moved to stand in front and face her. “Yes, well…”

“ABBY!!!!” A scream tore through the air, Miranda’s heart stilled at the sound of her daughters screaming but within second, two balls of flying red hair crashed into the CEO, pushing her off her feet and fortunately unto the grass below.

‘Oof!” Andy winced, catching the girls before she slammed into the ground, angling herself so as to not fall on either of them.

Miranda watched bewildered as her daughter squealed and clung to the other woman like baby koalas. What shocked her the most was when Andrea finally look down to see whom her assailants were, she threw her head back and laughed, gripping the girls tightly to her.

“Girls! What are you doing!?” Miranda yelled.

“This is her mom; it’s Abby from the alley!” Caroline yelled, for a split second Miranda was still confused.

As Andy rose to her feet with two prepubescent girls still clinging to her. “It’s Andy.” She tickled them with a laugh. The two jumped off her at the tickle assault. Miranda was still frozen in place, the pieces clicking to place with a startling clarity and her stomach bottomed out.

“It was you?” She whispered hoarsely. “You saved my babies?”

Andy finally turned to her with a frown. “Wait, mom? They’re your daughters?” She turned back to the twins. “She’s your mum?” Her eyes were wide when they nodded vigorously. What were the fucking odds?

Andy laughed. “I should have known.” She gently poked the girls then added teasingly, “Only Priestly women would give me so much grief.” She then kneeled in front of the two. “Tell me, how are my wee monsters?”

Cassidy threw herself at the woman and wrapped her arms tightly around her neck. “You found us again.” There was awe in her voice.

“It’s really great to see you again Cassidy,” She mumbled in the girl’s hair. “and you too Caroline.”

“You remembered who’s who!” Caroline was pleased.

“Of course, I wouldn’t forget the wee monsters.” She said with a wink.

Realizing that Miranda had yet to speak. Andy rose to her feet and turned to the other woman, suddenly struck by an unknown sense of nerves. “Sorry,” she rubbed at the back of her neck when Miranda continued staring at her with a strange look. ‘ _Was she upset?’_ Andy thought warily, she never really knew with the other woman.

“Thank you.” Miranda whispered as she threw herself at the brunette. Andy’s quick reflexes and surprising strength was the only thing that kept her from falling to the ground once more. “Thank you so much.” Miranda clung to her in a moment of weakness and gratitude.

“No worries Priestly, I did what any one would do.” They both knew it wasn’t true.

“I mean it, thank you.” Miranda buried her face in the other woman’s neck when her yes began glistening with tears. She didn’t want anyone seeing her cry, especially the insufferable, wonderful creature that held her.

“Does that mean I can stare at your arse whenever I want?” Andy tried lightening the tension, sensing that it was becoming too much for the editor who didn’t want to lose the tight reins on her emotions in public, especially in front of her.

Miranda snorted and gently smacked the back of the brunette’s head. “Idiot.” She whispered. “Don’t expect me to get all mushy with you from now on.” She sniffed.

Andy smiled, wide and bright as she buried her nose in the white coif and inhaled deeply. “Wouldn’t dream of it Priestly.”

Caroline and Cassidy watched them in confusion. Their Mom was locked in an embrace with their savior. They knew each other? How? Cassidy shot Caroline a look, they look, they looked like a, a couple? Like a strike of lightning or a flash of light, an idea popped into Cassidy’s mind. She turned to her sister, and then nodded at the pair still hugging and whispering to each other.

Caroline frowned _‘What?’_ Cassidy nodded again with more force then widened her eyes, trying to convey her idea to her sister without speaking. Her sister frowned again but looked over at her mother, and then just as quickly her head whipped back to her sister.

_OH!_

_‘Finally!’_ Cassidy arched a brow as her sister rubbed her eyes in glee and mischief.

Operation ‘Make Mom happy’ was afoot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. – B.S.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. Here’s another chapter, stay safe and I hope you enjoy. – B.S.
> 
> And shout out to my muse, you know who you are, she's been a huge help throughout the whole process.

_It had been two weeks since Serena had entangled herself in this farce. Two weeks since she had become absolutely smitten by the red head Brit with an embarrassing quickness. Yet still, the other girl showed no sign of noticing the tender heart eyes the Dutch aristocrat always looked at her with._

_They had become fast friends thankfully. The calm, cool confidence that Serena embodied drew the socially awkward, yet endearingly clumsy girl to her like a moth to a flame. She had used her charm to convince one of the chaperones that it would be best that she roomed with Emily as they had met briefly before and seemed to get on quickly._

_Now she sat in the hostel room they’d been assigned to. The ensuite in her childhood playroom was three times its size and at first she was extremely skeptical how one much less two persons were supposed to board here; but after hearing Emily’s laugh when she asked, well it’s suffice to say that she had dove head first into the new experience._

_“Why do you sit like that?” Emily asked as she lounged on her bed with her glasses dangled haphazardly on her nose._

_“Like what?” She asked absently._

_“So rigid, imperious. I don’t know, like royalty.”_

_Serena tensed, and then offered a strained laugh. “Would you prefer me to have bad posture? Is that it?” She teased, trying to deflect._

_Emily through a pillow at her with a snort. “You know that’s not it.”_

_“Hmmm.” Serena then swiveled in her chair to face her roommate, and then with a quirk of her lips, she purposely hunched her shoulders and hung her head a bit. “Is this better liefste?” ‘Dearest’ she called her in her native tongue. From the moment Serena had laid eyes on her, she’d though the title was fitting._

_Emily rolled her eyes. “You’re the worse.”_

_“You wound me.” Serena smirked as she swiveled her chair back to the desk._

_“What are you doing?”_

_“Trying to decipher a very complex physics equation.” Again, she answered absently._

_“I thought you were a literature and art history major.” Emily frowned in confusion._

_It was Serena’s turn to recoil in confusion and haughtiness. ‘Her?! The Liberal Art?! God no!’ Her horror must have shown on her face because Emily’s frown deepened._

_“Isn’t that why you’re here?’_

_Ah yes. This Gizelle Fernando was a liberal arts student. Serena thought quickly then adding. “I am, sometimes I just do this in my spare time.”_

_“_ _You solve complex physics equations in your spare time?” Emily’s voice was dry._

_“Doesn’t everyone?”_

_Emily snickered before flipping unto her back. “And they laugh at me and call me the dork?’_

_“Who?”_

_Emily tilted her when she heard her friend’s voice shift to something cold and hard._

_“Who laughs at you?’_

_“Oh.” Fiddling with her glasses, the red head shrugged. “I mean, most people, maybe, I don’t know. It doesn’t matter anyways. I’m proud of myself, even if I’m a bit…dorky.” She ended with a wry grin, trying to break the tension radiating from her beautiful roommate._

_Serena eyed her for a moments, with an assessing, critical gaze. When she finally found what she was searching for, the sparkle of self-confidence in the red head’s eye, she nodded before turning back to her work._

_The two then fell into an easy conversation. Emily told her about her family, from her hard to please father, functioning alcoholic mother and angsty younger brother; but she spent most of her time relaying stories about her grandmother, her favorite person in the whole world._

_Her Nan was brash, adventurous, understanding when she thought herself a freak and could’ve already felt the disapproving gaze of her father. She was wild and charismatic and was everything Emily aspired to be and the two from the moment little Emily announced herself to the world with ear shattering scream were damn near inseparable._

_Serena laughed and snickered when Emily begrudgingly told embarrassing stories of her teens. Fortunately, when Emily had begun turning the questions on her, there was a knock at their door. Shooting her a look that the conversation wasn’t over as fair was fair, Emily rose from the bed to answer the intruder._

_After a few moments she was back._

_“Who was it?”_

_“Anthony.” She said referring to one of ‘their’ classmates. “They’re going to the beach and wanted to know if you we wanted to go.”_

_“Oh?” She turned her chair once more. “Do you want to go?”_

_The Brit shrugged. “It might be fun, perhaps a little sun and salt water would do us good. Unless you’re busy of course.” She nodded to the papers scattered across the little study table._

_“No!” Serena shot out, refusing to pass up the opportunity of seeing Emily in a bathing suit. She mentally rolled her eyes. Gosh, she sounded like a hormonal teenage boy, but when she ran her eyes up and down the red head, she found that she was fine with the comparison. “I mean, it sounds fun, sure.” She added with a slight air of disinterest. She didn’t want to sound too pathetic got god’s sake._

_“Great, let’s get changed then. I’ll tell him we’ll meet in downstairs in fifteen minutes.”_

_Serena nodded as the red head glided across the room with a subtle pep._

_______________

_Everyone on the trip realized a few things fairly quickly after meeting the gorgeous blonde. One, she was always pleasant and courteous, even if a bit aloof and cold. She never got personal, seemed disinterested in making friends with any of them, but was never overtly rude or hostile and two, she only ever smiled, laughed or engaged with any of them when Emily was around. She hung unto every word the red head said and was never far from her without being clingy or obsessive. She orbited around her, giving her space without being too far out of reach._

_“Hey Em.” Janice, a good friend and classmate called out when the red head approached the hut their little group had claimed._

_“Hey.” She smiled as she found a chair and deposited her and Gizelle’s bags unto it. Speaking of Gizelle, ‘where was she?’ Emily thought as she looked around with a frown. The blonde had disappeared a few moments after they arrived and hadn’t been back since. “Has anyone seen Gizelle?”_

_There was a collective murmur of no’s before Matt, another classmate gasped. “Holy Shit!” With large bulging eyes. Turning to find out the reason for the outburst, there was a collective gasp, as mouths gaped and eyes widened. Even Emily found herself captivated and awe struck, much like most of the beach at that point._

_From the crashing wave, as if it were straight of out a Bond film, Serena slowly stalked out of the beautiful jade water. She was donned in a sinful -seriously, it should be illegal- bikini that hung from every curve, leaving little to the imagination. Strutting from the waves, she flipped her hair back before running her hands through the wet stresses as the water ran in rivulets down her tanned torso._

_She was the epitome of every fantasy and envy of every supermodel. Emily was captivated, entranced and painfully aroused. That last feeling shook her to her core as the girl swaggered across the sands; pass the gawking on lookers to stand right in front of the red head._

_“Liefste, you must go into the water, it’s divine.” She said lowly while squeezing the water from her hair._

_“I-” Emily was struck by a sudden wave of self-consciousness and embarrassment as she visually assaulted her friend. “No, no…” She tugged at the hem of her beach dress, having no intention of taking it off in front of the girl who could grace the runways and fashion magazine’s with ease._

_“Come on.” She tugged at her hand, coaxing her forward. “You’re the one that wanted to come.” She had barely taken notice of the others who were watching the exchange._

_Emily blushed to the roots of her hair. “Well, I’ve, I’ve changed my mi-”_

_“Oh no you don’t.” Serena grinned with mischief in her eyes. “You’re not getting away that easily.” In a flash, she tossed a screaming Emily over her shoulder and ran down the beach._

_Emily smacked at the blonde’s firm, delicious, absolutely sexy backside…’okay, she was clearly losing it now,’ she thought. Laughing with maniacal glee, Serena dove into the waters with the red head who sputtered and splashed as the blonde laughed harder._

_Across the beach, under their little hut, the rest of the class watched as Emily chased a giggling Gizelle before tackling her, then playfully tussled amoung the wave._

_Anthony drooled. “Take it off, take it off…” He whispered in hope as he watched them. It was a hard whack upside the head that drew him from his lewd thoughts. “Ow!” He yelled at Janice who rolled her eyes while shooting back, ‘Perv.’_

_______________________

Emily nodded to the on duty security as she swiped her pass to access the Elias-Clarke elevators. It was a Saturday afternoon and yet here she was, burning away her weekend for Runway. Not that she was complaining, she truly enjoyed her job, the clothes, the designers, the beauty of it all was extremely captivating, but it was still a Saturday so of course she was a little miffed that she had to be here; she was only human after all.

So lost in thought she was, that she almost missed the striking blonde waiting by the closed lift doors, scanning through a tablet as she muttered to herself. It was the vision of her that brought Emily up short. She had tied her hair up in a messy bun, stray strands framing her face with a pencil was tucked behind her ear. Her eyes squinted slightly in concentration.

Emily subconsciously ran her palm overt her chest. She should be at least a little angry. After talking to Nigel, she now knew that the other woman had clearly lied about her name, where she was from, she’d lied about everything, but right now, Emily couldn’t seem to muster the fire to care about any of that.

She had a million questions racing through her mind. _‘Why did she lie about who she was? What did she have to gain by following around a college trip for almost two months? Was she always this achingly beautiful?’_ The two had unfinished business and all the red head desired right now, was to sort it so they could move forward.

She didn’t know what came over her, but before she could stop herself she was clearing her throat, hoping to get the other woman’s attention. Serena stiffened for a second before looking up. When her eyes met the other woman, they narrowed further before returning to the screen. The blonde had no intention of giving the red head even an ounce more of her time.

“Gizelle?” Her voice was low and hopeful.

Serena remained silent.

“Well I supposed that isn’t your name.” Her laugh was forced and dry. “I should be mad you know, after all, you did lie to me.”

Everything in Serena was telling her to just let it be. To ignore the woman and continue on to her lab, but the red head’s next words spurred her into action.

“But I, I forgive you.”

Serena whirled around with a fury and her words were biting. “ _You forgive me_?” She scoffed. “How _benevolent_ of you!” Her words were mocking as her body tensed in barely suppressed rage.

Emily gaped at her, shocked and confused. “Why are you being like this!?” Her voice gritted. “You’re the one who _lied!_ ”

“And you’re the one who, who- you know what, _never mind_!” She spun around, returning her attention to her screen. “Whenever you see me just, just ignore me. Pretend we never met, you’re so good at that.” The doors dinged open and the blonde stepped in.

Emily ran in behind her

“I can’t just dismiss me; dismiss us as if it all never happened!” She ran through the doors before it closed. An exceptional feat considering the way Serena was jamming at the ‘close door’ button.

“Nothing happened.” The other woman hissed as the English woman tore through the doors.

“The hell it didn’t!” She snapped back. “I shan’t pretend and shan’t ignore you. We need to talk.”

Within moments, the doors popped open again on a floor that had been long abandoned. Through them, Emily could see the hustle and bustle as persons were moving equipment and retrofitting the place for something. Before Serena stepped out, she turned to the red head coolly, even as her heart hammered in her chest.

“We have nothing to talk about.”

With that, she was off, leaving Emily behind with clenched fists as the doors dinged closed once more.

________________

Hunter whistled lowly as she surveyed her surroundings. The entrance had been littered with the most expensive, rare and finest automobiles ever engineered and designed. The sleek sport cars and constant whirling of helicopter blades as they descended spoke to the level of wealth that was dancing away in the building. They certainly knew how to throw a party, that was for sure. She raised her brows at the equally lavish display when she entered the building. The chandeliers glittered actual diamonds and gold and the grand staircases where chiseled from limestone and marbles, probably imported from Greece or some equally exotic Mediterranean nation.

One of the core principles taught at ATLAS’ training academy was blending in, being a chameleon in virtually any environment the agents found themselves. Whether it was the back alley of some black market dealing or rubbing shoulders with the so called beautiful people of the glitterati or the peerage, it would seem as though they were home; and so, Hunter straightened her shoulders, titled her head up and adopted an air pf bored indifference. The agent took to it like a fish in water, only she wasn’t a fish at all; she was the shark in their midst, deadly and devastatingly beautiful.

She wore a beautiful number that even made her own jaw drop. She was stunning as the lights around her glittered against her, making her almost seem ethereal. She was painfully attractive and completely, utterly unreachable.

Moving to the security at the interior doors, she rattled off her cover name to the guard checking the guests in. With Meyer’s work. Her cover was absolutely flawless. She was the daughter and right hand woman of a very notorious and extremely wealthy Serbian arms dealer who was interested in procuring a new method of warfare, something that would up the ante. She was scheduled to meet the seller on behalf of her ‘father’ tonight.

The guard eyes widened when he realized who the guest was. “Of course Ms. Stojanović, please, follow me.” He traded of the list to another guard as he moved to escort the woman inside the main halls.

“I trust you are taking me to Dr. Strant?” She said lowly while following the man.

Dr. Urick Strant was the headliner for this event and a suspected front man for the Dark Palm. He is a fairly renowned chemical engineer and researcher who specialized in war tech, a bit on the nose of you asked her. He had been involved in many well known secret human trials and experiments that where frowned upon in the field, but the man was too heavily protected for anyone to do anything about it.

The two walked across the room, the guard had yet to answer her, but Hunter took it as an affirmative. Finally, they left the room. “Through there ma’am.” The guard motioned to massive wooden door.

“Oh?” She was skeptical; walking into a possible trap was not the way she wanted to spend her Saturday night.

_“I’ve got eyes on you, don’t worry.”_ Meyer’s voice filtered through her earpiece.

A slight flicker of Hunter’s eyebrow was her only reaction. _‘Well here goes,’_ she thought as she pushed the door open and stepped inside the room. Behind her, the door closed with a soft _click!_ Shutting out the conversational hums and soft music of the party outside.

“This is a dead zone. No cameras, no bugs, nothing can penetrate this room.” A voice sounded to her right.

In her ear, Meyer snorted.

“Good, wouldn’t want anything to leave this room would we.” Turning she watched as middle-aged man, standing by the fireplace swirled an amber cocktail in his glass while staring at her. She mentally laughed when Meyer sounded.

_“Could he be any more cliché?”_

“Ms. Stojanović I presume.”

A nod was her only response.

“Delighted to meet you, let’s get down to business shall we?”

“Before we begin, I want to meet your boss. I never do business until I know all the players.” Her voice was bored, but that did nothing to take from the sharp intelligence in her eye.

He threw his head back and laughed, full and boisterous. “Look little lady.” She bristled at that but said nothing. “You make an offer and then I tell you if it’s worth my organization’s time. That’s how this works.”

“That doesn’t work for me.” She drawled. “How about you just tell me what I want to know and I’ll reconsider kicking out of that window for calling me ‘little lady’ hmmm? Doesn’t that sound more promising?”

Meyer’s lips twitched as she listened in.

The not so good doctor narrowed his eyes. “Tsk, tsk. That’s a big threat from someone so far from home.”

“Threat? Not at all doctor. That was merely sage advice. A threat would be, give me what I want or I’ll throw you out the window after I stab my stiletto in your neck. See? It’s all about the wording really.”

“Hunter.” Meyer warned softly in her agent’s ear.

“Why you-!” He stepped forward threateningly and Hunter just had about enough.

She was across the room in second, punching him in the jaw. “I don’t like repeating myself.” Suddenly the man tackled her and within moments, they were grappling, barely able to get in a proper blow.

Twisting in place, Hunter caught Strant's flying punch and wrenched him round, locking his shoulder. And she wasn't done — Hunter continued to turn, elbow smashing into the doctor’s face, deflecting the man's kick with an irritable flick of her stiletto clad foot. The hard edge of Hunter's hand slammed into his temple just as she swept his legs out from underneath him. The man crumpled, flying backwards and crashing through the glass. Half of his body dangled out.

“As I said, through the window.” She moved towards him, her tone hadn’t changed from the bored disinterest she had entered with even as the doors shook with the force of guards trying to enter. Luckily, she had used one of the many gadgets Meyer had sent her with, and sealed them shut. Nothing short of a grenade was opening those doors.

Meyer raised an eyebrow, struggling not to be impressed and failing miserably.

_____________

“Mom, how do you know Andy?” Caroline finally pipped up, jarring the two from their embrace.

“Oh well, she’s my-”

“I’m her friend.” Andy interrupted quickly while sending the editor a wink.

_‘Friend? Well I supposed they could be…friendly?’_ Miranda thought as her girls drew Andy into their conversation.

“Mom.” Cassidy tugged at her hand. “Can Andy join us for dinner?” She shot her mother her best puppy dog eyes and the biggest pout she could muster.

“Yeah Mom, pleeeeease?” Caroline joined in with equal vigour.

“I…” She lifted her head with her eyes closed, praying for strength, but she knew resistance was futile. “Why don’t you ask Andrea if she has any plans first hmm Bobbsey?”

The two whirled around at the CEO with same expressions on their face.

“Good god, how do you say no to that?” She asked with a laugh causing the editor to smirk. Her babies knew how to get what they wanted. “I do have plans tonight.” She could tell her daughters’ faces fell, much like her heart. _‘Why was she so disappointed?’_ “But I’ll make a call. Serena’s most likely buried work and can’t leave anyways.” She mumbled to herself as she drew out her cell phone.

The girls cheered, already planning on which take out to pick up on their way home. Miranda found herself smiling slightly. Her babies were so used to disappointment, especially from their father and they hardly ever took to someone so wholly and completely. She decided if it made her daughters happy, then she would suffer through Andrea’s company in silence, for their sake of course.

“Okay so I’m all yours for the evening.” She smiled down at them as they wrapped their hands around her.

“Come on Mom, let’s go!” Caroline yelled over her shoulders as they drew the brunette to the exit.

Walking down the street, they had decided on Thai from one of Miranda’s favorite restaurant’s and after calling in the order, the foursome was walking to the townhouse with laughter and happy conversation following them.

Andy had Cassidy on her back, while Caroline was curled into her mother’s side.

“You have a beautiful family.” A voice rang beside them as they stopped at a pedestrian crossing.

Miranda’s head snapped around to see an elderly lady grinning at them as her little dog yipped at their feet.

“Oh we’re not-”

“Thank you ma’am.” Andy interrupted with another insufferable grin. The kind that showed her dimples and left Miranda weak in the knees.

“You’re welcome dearie.” The lady gave them one last look before walking away, muttering to her dog with content.

“You hear that Priestly?”

“Don’t.”

“We make a beautiful family.”

“Andrea.”

“If you’re the Mummy, does that make me the Daddy?”

“You can’t help yourself can you?”

“Nope!” She popped the ‘p’ earning herself a giggle from the package on her back.

“Sachs-Priestly does have a nice ring to it doesn’t it.” She teased the woman who crossed the road.

“You’re an idiot… and we both know it’d be Priestly-Sachs.” She sniffed.

Andy shot her an amused mischievous look while whispering. “We’ll see about that.”

They were strolling down Miranda’s street, when Caroline finally stopped. “Ah Mom?”

“Yes Bobbsey?”

“Did you leave the front door open?”

“What? Miranda quickly moved to her daughter and sure enough, the front door of the Priestly residence was swinging open.

Cassidy slid off Andrea’s back who pulled the twins behind her. Gone was the playful, jovial Andrea and in her place stood someone who was fierce and very much protective. “Caro, get back, stay with your sister.” She moved up the steps and grabbed Miranda before she could enter her home. “You too Priestly. Go stay with the children.”

“This is my home! You don’t tell me what to-”

“Miranda!” She hissed. “I’m not allowing you to go into that _fucking_ house until I know it’s safe. Now get behind me and stay with the children.” She snapped as she lifted the stunned woman off her feet and moved her behind her.

Miranda was stunned silent. Even when they were at each other’s throat, almost tipping the line of an actual blood bath, she had never heard the other woman sound like this. The brunette was volatile, like a volcano about to erupt. Her voice had dropped several degrees and her eyes had hardened, until the carefree woman she knew was unrecognizable. She was terrified, the thought of what could have happened if they had been at home, her heart raced and sickening feeling tore through her.

Andy had already pushed the emergency button on her watch and of her teams should be here with two minutes. She neared the door, kicking it wider.

“Andrea!”

She quickly turned at Miranda’s frantic voice.

‘Be careful.” The woman whispered as she clutched her visibly frightened daughters.

With a nod and a “Stay here, I mean it.” Andy entered the house.

She had never been more grateful for her parents’ insistence that she learned various forms of martial arts and weapons training. _‘You never know when you might need it,’_ they’d said over and over when young Andy had shown reluctance. As she flickered on the light, she could hear the screeching tires of various vehicle careen to a halt in front of the Priestly residence.

Andy swore under her breath as the mess. As far as she could see, there was chaos. Everything was upturned or turned over; some things were shattered or broken. Overall, the place looked as though a tornado had torn through it.

“Lady Sachs!?” A team of suited guards stalked through the doors with weapons raised.

“Check the perimeter. Make sure whoever did this isn’t still here.” She said by way of answer.

“Ma’am.” The team leader said before tuning to his unit. “You have your order. Move out!”

Swearing under her breath once more, Andy could feel a migraine building. First an attempted kidnapping, then this? She didn’t believe in coincidences, never had and she wasn’t planning on starting now. Quickly moving outside, she found the Priestlys huddled together under the watchful eyes of three guards. Nodding to them, she closed in on the little family.

“Miranda?” She called, gesturing for the woman to follow her.

Nodding, Miranda turned to her daughters. “Mommy will be right back babies, just stay right here okay.” When the two whispered a low ‘yes’ Miranda moved towards the younger woman.

“The place has been smashed.” Andy could see the white of Miranda’s knuckles as her hands fisted. “My team is the best of the best, they’ll investigate it but you can’t stay there tonight. It’s not safe for you or the girls.”

“I’ll have Emily book a hotel.” She reached for her phone but her hands were shaking. Gripping them between hers, Andy stilled the woman’s movement.

“No need for that.”

“Are you dense!? You just said it isn’t safe!” She snapped. Miranda’s couldn’t allow herself to fall apart now, so instead she fell back on what was safe, what was easy and that was bitchy Miranda, the Devil of Runway.

“You all will stay with me.” Andy chose not engage with the woman’s need for a fight. Not now, not tonight. She understood why the woman was lashing out, so she just let her be.

Miranda scoffed. “I don’t need your help.”

“Enough with the foolishness Miranda!” The editor was beginning to realize that the brunette only ever used her first name when she was extremely upset. “Don’t be a selfish arse. You have the girls to think about and the safest bet is me. If you think I’m going to leave you here or at some hotel, you have another thing coming. So tell the guards what you and the girls will need for the next few days so that they can go and pack it then get your arse in the damn car.” She hissed.

Miranda narrowed her eyes, but clamped her mouth shut when she heard the low whimper of her daughters.

“Fine.”

“ _Fine._ ”

It was almost midnight before Andy, the Priestly entered the Penthouse, the trio was too exhausted physically, and mentally to take in the beauty and extravagance that was the Rioteers New York abode. Andy had texted ahead to both Serena and Cristi about what happened, assuring them that everyone was safe but they would be having guests for a few days.

“I know you’re all tired so I’ll just give you a run down now and a tour tomorrow okay?” When they nodded, she continued. “Okay, the kitchen is that way.” She pointed across the room and down a hall. “All the bedrooms are Masters with an ensuite. The two on the first floor are Cristi and Serena’s. There’s four on the second, the girls will have those and two more on the third. One is mine; Miranda you’ll have the other. Henry here,” She gestured to the butler. “Will take you up and help you get settled in, they’ll bring up your bags in a few minutes. Is that okay for everyone?”

“I’ll stay with the girls.” Miranda finally found her voice after she and Andrea had gotten into it.

“No, no. It’s okay Mom.” Caro clenched her jaw, trying to appear strong. “I’ll stay with Caro for the night, you go to your room, we’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure Bobbsey?” She knew they loved their independence but they were also still her little babies.

Turning to her sister for a second, she turned back quickly. “We’re sure Mom.”

“Okay.” She moved and kissed each on their forehead. “I’ll be up shortly to say goodnight.”

They nodded as the butler gestured for them to follow.

“Look, Priestly-”

“Honestly Andrea, it’s been quite the day, whatever it is, save it for later.”

Normally, Andrea would push, but Miranda’s voice was drained and her eyes were weary, now was not the time. She sighed to herself, wondering how the day could've gone so wrong so quickly.

“Yes, of course, Adrienne will see you up.” She nodded for the other butler to escort the editor to her new living quarters. Checking her watch, Andy looked up. “I have to run out, but I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

Miranda could barely muster the energy to nod and with that, Andy was off.

__________________

Miranda had left a lamp on, just in case her daughters had changed their minds and decided to seek comfort from their mother. So when her door creaked open and she blearily looked at the clock on her night stand that read 4 am, she wasn’t too surprised. She closed her eyes, waiting for either of them to call for her, but she was met with silence. _‘That’s odd.’_ She opened her eyes and came face to face with the deepest brown eyes and a flop of messy curls that covered the little boy’s forehead. He couldn’t have been more than four.

He was dressed in an onesie with stars and rockets littered across it and a little stuffed rocket was clutched under his arm. He looked at the new comer with wide earnest eyes that were so familiar in its expression.

“Are you a fairy queen?” The little boy clutched the bedding near the editor’s head, hope tinging his little voice.

The scream that ripped from Miranda’s throat, tore through the entire house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. Even the little things. – B.S.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. Here’s another chapter, stay safe and I hope you enjoy. – B.S.

Miranda clamped her hand over her mouth as the other clutched her chest. She didn’t know whether it was her heightened stress level after the events of the previous night or being mostly semi-conscious in unfamiliar environment, or maybe her reaction was a culmination of both. Either way it was too late to remedy it now.

She watched as the little boy’s eyes widened while he took a step back and the crashing and door slamming of the occupants of the home being jarred from their sleep. The boy wasn’t scared, if anything he looked curious. Just then, right outside of her door, she heard a thump followed by a string of curses a mile long.

The boy tutted under his breath, before looking at her in frustration. “Mummy said a bad word.” He said by way of explanation for the blatant disappointment on his face.

Miranda had yet to find her voice when the door slammed open.

“Wha-what!” Andrea flickered on the lights and stormed in, bleary eyed, but her actions were precise and controlled, ready to tackle whatever had sought to harm the white haired editor without thought to her own well-being.

Behind the brunette, she saw two of the Lady’s guards, hands hovering over their holstered firearms as they assessed the situation, then her daughters scurried in frightened, followed by another young boy about their age but just an inch or two taller, rubbing his eyes, whether to remove the sleep or the confusion, she wasn’t sure.

“I-” Miranda made a pointed gesture at the baby boy who seemed indifferent, if not a little excited by all the commotion.

“Mama look!” He was literally buzzing on his feet as he pointed the white haired stranger sitting up in the bed. He had been looking for his Mama to chase away the monster under his bed, but he’d found something even better. “It’s the fairy queen!” He ran and jumped, gripping himself as he tried hoisting his little body up the side of the bed.

Miranda found herself tugging the little boy the rest of the way when it was evident that he was going to go crashing back to the ground. He flayed his legs, rolled over and jumped to his knees, staring at the editor with complete adoration.

The room remained quiet. Andy was only partially functioning as the adrenaline that had sent her careening from bed, down to the hall was now drained from her. She remembered being jarred by the woman’s blood curdling scream, a scream that sent terror unlike anything she’d ever experienced down her spine, her heart had sunk and her lungs had seized. The only thing that rang through her mind was that she had to get to Miranda; she had to get to her fast and keep her safe.

Now that she saw what the ‘danger’ was, she lifted her eyes to the heaven, with a little amusement but mostly exasperation at her sometimes too curious boy. Looking back down, she quickly realized something. Miranda Priestly laid in one of her guest rooms, face purged of all makeup and without it’s signature style, her hair flopped adorably on her forehead, but the curl seemed to be natural as it still lingered over her right eye.

Andy stared and stared, she was, she was…achingly beautiful and, and so real and Andy’s eyes softened with something akin to tenderness. Trailing down, she made another realization. Miranda was dressed in the skimpiest spaghetti strapped satin night dress that Andy knew, she just knew even though the other woman’s lower half was covered by sheets, that the dress barely grazed the swell of her arse.

Andy groaned mentally at her thoughts as she fought with herself, calling on her English propriety and Aristocratic etiquette not to look down the other woman’s bust.

_‘Don’t you dare Andy!’_

_‘But, but, it’s not like we haven’t seen, and tasted…god she has the most amazing breasts.’_

_She sighed dreamily, remembering their weight in her hands, and the feel of Miranda’s nipples as they hardened on her tongue. ‘Yeah she does…wait! NO! Don’t be a perv!’_

She was pulled from her lest than decent thought by the sound of her baby’s voice.

“Hi.” He whispered to Miranda.

“Azza.” Andy groaned, moving to the little boy to take him back to bed, but her movements stilled when Miranda held up a finger.

Finally, she found her voice. “Why hello and you are?”

“Azaria Sachs.” He reached for her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it, a gesture he’d seen his Mama do a million times. Then with a grin and an elaborate half bow that almost had him tumbling over, he pushed his unruly locks from his eyes. “Pease to meet you fairy queen.” He finished with a wide smile.

Miranda was utterly charmed. “Such a gentleman.” Azza preened under her compliment, even as a little blush rose across his olive cheek.

“He gets it from me.”

Miranda rolled her eyes and shot Andy a look, which she returned with a wink.

“Mama, is everything okay?” The slightly cracking voice of her older son broke through. She returned to see three pairs of baby blues staring back at her. “Mama?” Charles Sachs the fourth, affectionately called ‘Ducky’ stepped towards his silent mother, eyeing the newcomers warily.

“Yes, yes of course. Your brother was a little lost is all.” She waved her hand gesturing for the guards to leave even as Cassidy and Caroline went to their mother for confirmation. A low ‘I’m fine Bobbseys.” Could’ve been heard behind her even as she kissed him on the forehead and whispered. “Off you go little love; I’ll make introductions in the morning.”

With a squinty look at his Mum, he nodded before turning on his heels.

“To bed, the both of you.” Miranda murmured to her daughters, who after shooting the little boy who hadn’t taken his eyes off their mother, scampered off the bed rushing pass Andy as she affectionately ruffled their hair.

“Now you young man-” Andy raised her son into her arms.

He wrapped his legs around her waist and his arms around her neck. He caught his mother’s eyes. “She’s so pretty Mama.” He whispered loudly suddenly shy. “Can we keep her?”

Andy gaped as Miranda gave an unladylike snort.

“That’s not how it works monkey.” She tickled him, filling the room with the distinct sound of childish laughter and glee. He wiggled in his attempt to get away, stretching his arms to Miranda who reached for him. He settled into her arms as though he had been doing it for years.

“Really Andrea, sons?” She admonished teasingly.

It was her turn to suddenly feel shy. She rubbed at the back of her neck. “Yes, well.” She cleared her throat, before looking down with clear adoration at the boy, cradled in the editor’s arms, whose eyes were drooping no matter how much he tried to fight it. “Not many know about them, keeps them safe.” She kneeled by the side of the bed by Miranda’s feet. Running her hand through the boy’s hair, she whispered sweet nothings until he finally drifted off. “I’ll take him to my room.” She whispered, not wanting to wake him.

With a light squeeze, Miranda nodded as Andrea gently relieved her of his weight. Miranda watched Andy; the woman was truly a perplexity. She would have never guessed that the brunette was harbouring such secrets.

Her lips quirked as Andy rocked Azza as he started to fuss, clearly knowing something was changing, but without the strength to wake up and investigate. It suited her, Miranda’s eyes glinted, it really did.

Andy looked back at the woman. “We’ll talk in the morning okay?”

“Get him to bed.” Was her response as the woman left the room.

Miranda laid awake for what felt like hours after the earlier commotion. The sleep that once came readily now proved elusive. Andrea kneeling by her, comforting and teasing a child who giggled in her arms, did something to her. She felt…light, and a rush of something she’d only ever experienced with her daughters flowed through her. Even on all three of her wedding days, she’d never felt it, it was, it was…happiness? _‘No that couldn’t be right,’_ she thought.

She’d almost forgotten why she was in the aristocrat’s home in the first place, and for a split second she’d had the most overwhelming urge to capture the other woman’s lips with her own. To pull her to bed and have her hold her as she soothed their baby to sleep, knowing their other children were safely sprawled in their beds.

Miranda grabbed her chest as her mind screeched to a halt _‘Theirs!? Where did that ridiculous thought come form?’_ She sat up to calm the rapid beating of her heart. Those thoughts would not do, she pursed her lips. No matter how much she…she ached for it. Shaking her head, the editor flipped unto her side with a huff, violently tugging her sheets, she clamped her eyes, forcing herself to sleep. Clearly, this insomnia also specialized in hallucinations and ludicrous thoughts.

Her eyes flew open with the stark realization that the other woman had seen her without makeup. “Fuck.” She groaned, kicking at the bed in frustration.

_________________

“You’re up.” Andy sipped her tea as he leaned back in the dining chair with legs crossed.

Unable to tear her eyes from the older woman, Andy inhaled sharply at the sight of Miranda. She was as beautiful as ever or even more so, her black skirt and white blouse under a grey blazer suited her perfectly and complemented her figure exceptionally. The customary silver lock had fallen over her eye as she strutted down the stairs. Her cheeks were flushed like Andrea's, her blue eyes piercing. Andy felt her breath catch at this stunningly gorgeous woman.

“Stating the obvious I see.” Andy scoffed as Miranda adjusted the cuff of her blouse, her eyes scanning the room looking for something.

“They’re in the play room with Azza and Ducky, my other son.” Andrea watched her over the rim of her China.

Miranda’s brows rose. “Ducky?”

“Hmm.” She hummed amused. “Charles, but when he was a baby he couldn’t pronounce Chucky.”

“Ah, I see so Ducky.” She sat down as a freshly brew cup of coffee was placed before her. Taking a sip, she moaned at the flavours exploding on her tongue.

Andy laughed lowly as Miranda eyed the contents of the cup as though it had the answer to every question ever asked. “It’s a Jamaican, Brazilian Columbian blend. Serena hybridized it herself.”

“She’s a god.” She sipped again greedily.

Andy threw her head back and laughed. “I’ll pass on the sentiment.” She watched as the woman paid her no mind, as her sole focus was on the miracle brew. “It’s not available to the public, but I’ll have a few packages arranged for you.”

“Bless you.”

“If I’d known that coffee would have made you this amendable, I’d sent some ages ago.”

“Don’t ruin this for me.” She hadn’t even looked up.

Andy snorted as she eyed the woman incredulously.

After the woman finished her cup and signaled for another, she tilted her head at Andy. “So, you have children.”

“I do.”

“They’re-”

“Adopted, yes.”

Miranda nodded, she had noticed that little Azaria didn’t seem to share any of his mother’s heritage and from what she could see, Andy would have had to have Charles in her teens. Still she frowned, Andrea struck her as the flighty, not someone who would settle down anytime soon type.

“I won’t lie; I didn’t peg you for the type.”

“Type?” Andy frowned.

“Having your own children, you seem…” She waved her hand to convey her meaning.

“Seem what?” Her eyes narrowed, before she sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “You know what? I’m not going to argue with you. I’ll pretend you weren’t just about to insult me in my own home.”

“Right,” She sighed, feeling strangely defensive after the night she had. “Right.”

The two sat in a tense silence.

“Tell me about them?” Miranda’s voice was unsure.

Andy ran her finger over her lower lip, carefully eyeing the other woman before she spoke. “I met Azza’s mom before he was born at the Turkish Syrian border. She was essentially a freedom fighter.” She laughed to herself. “She hated when I called her that, but that’s what she was.”

“She was a soldier?”

“Yeah, a medic.” She closed her eyes and tilted her head back. “Her husband had died in an airstrike a month before she found out she was pregnant, but she wanted to stay and help so they based her in the refugee hospital and that’s where we met.” A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “I went there with a humanitarian aid group. One minute I’m playing football with the kids in the camp. The next I’m sprawled out on the ground and looking up at a gorgeous pair of brown eyes.” Seeing Miranda’s frown she continued. “I hit my head on the post while running to block a goal.” She finished sheepishly then grinned when she saw Miranda roll her eye. “Yeah that’s pretty much what she did too. But after that we got closer and…”

“You fell in love.” Miranda really didn’t know why the idea made her feel so sick.

Andy laughed, it was low, dry and without humour. “I could have, if she hadn’t…” _‘Died’_ The words though unsaid, hung in the air. “He looks so much like her you know.”

“Funny, I would have said he looks a bit like you.” At Andy’s frown she continued. “The eyes.” She pointed at her own. “You both have the same mischievous eyes.”

“Ha! I see.” She ran her hand over her face. “Making fun.”

Miranda quirked her lips at that. “I’m serious.”

She peeked out of one eye at her. “I know.” She finished with a smile.

“So how did she…?”

“Die?” She grew quiet and her face was slightly ashen. “Air strike. The doctors gave her a choice, she chose Azza. Made me promise to, to take care of him. By the end of the day I lost...” She swallowed before looking away. “and I had a son. Two weeks later my Uncle and his wife, died in a plane crash, mechanical failure. Charlie was about eight then, when I saw him, he had the same look in his eyes I had in mine. There was so much loss and grief, my parents thought he would be better off with me, that we would be good for each other. Within a month, I was a mother of screaming baby and hurting little boy. I had no idea what I was doing. Sometimes I still don’t.”

“I’m sure you’re doing wonderful job.”

“Was that a compliment Priestly?” She laughed. “How did that taste coming out pf your mouth?” She teased.

“See if I ever do it again.” Her brow arched imperiously as she sipped from her cup.

Andy turned away with a little smile before a thought occurred to her. “Oh, by the way, the police wants a statement from you. I told them we’d be there by midday.” She checked her watch; it was almost half an hour to. “We better leave now, hmm?”

Miranda finished her last cup before rising to her feet; she almost forgot why she was here, again. “Well then.” She turned and walked out of the room, Andy not far behind.

_________________

They had only just left the police station and Andy could tell that Miranda was clearly frustrated. The police had yet to find any concrete evidence about who the perpetrators were. It was deeply unsettling for the woman. The thought of going back to her house for lack of better word, terrified her. The place that was her sanctuary, her safe space, it had been invaded and she couldn’t shake the feeling that it would never be the same again.

Beside her, Andy walked in silence, giving her much needed space. The woman could be irritating but she could always read Miranda, always knowing when to push and when to hold back and give her space. A feat her previous partners had failed to grasp.

“I feel like taking a walk. Join me?” Andy had on a pair of sunglasses so Miranda was unable to read her eyes, but she nodded anyway. The thought of being cooped up in a car made her slightly queasy.

Andy motioned to her guards to keep a distance before the two walked down Main Street in silence. After a few minutes, Andy noticed something from her peripheral. It was a man, stumbling to and fro, but what set the CEO on edge was the fact that he was nearing Miranda who was walking a few meters ahead of her.

Andy moved forward quickly, blocking him as he reached for the editor’s favorite Prada handbag. Miranda drew up short as Andy grazed her shoulder, throwing an arm out to shift Miranda slightly behind her. Andy arched her head and thrust her other arm out at the approaching figure.

Andy’s nostrils flared. “Not today.”

However, what the aristocrat didn’t see was the other man approaching from the other side who moved with light speed, grabbing the editor’s bag and shooting down the street. Andy swore under breath, pushing the one near her to ground at her guards and made to take off after the other one without thought.

Miranda threw out her hand, grabbing unto her coat. “Andrea!”

Andy yanked her coat away without even a backward glance and moved aggressively toward the stranger who was running, within seconds, Andy’s decision was made and she was after him like a light. Andy rounded a corner as she neared him, tackling him to the ground with ferocity. The man tried grappling from her hold, but Andy held him steadfast before bring her fists down.

The man yelled and scream, throwing the purse at her as he tried kicking the woman who looked like she was about to kill him. With one mighty kick to her side, Andy decided to let the bastard go. She already had the purse back, he wasn’t worth the trouble. Lifting herself to her feet, she took up Miranda’s pursed, pulling a handkerchief from her jacket pocket, she gently if not a bit reverently wiped at the smooth, detailed leather as she left the corner.

Miranda looked ashen. She pursed her lips and said nothing even as Andy handed back the stupid purse. It was becoming increasingly obvious to Andy that she was in trouble. They began walking again, the adrenaline had left her but she was acutely aware of the controlled rage rolling off the other woman. She was really becoming an expert on Miranda and her body languages. The woman was not happy, at all. 

“Have I done something?” She asked, when the silence was becoming painfully suffocating.

No response. She waited.

“First it was entering the house without knowing if the burglars were still there, now it is chasing after petty criminals. Suppose he had a knife or a…gun? Tell me, do you think yourself as some sort of superhero vigilante? Or are you just plane moronic?” Miranda’s nostrils flared but her words were biting.

“I always fancied myself as the super hero type.” She tried lightening the mood, but as Miranda’s head snapped to her, Andy had the sinking feeling that she had made a grave error.

“You’re making jokes. So it’s moronic then.”

“Okay, okay, yes, you’re right. That was stupid. I see that now. The guards could’ve handled it. I wasn’t thinking.”

“You? Not thinking? Perish the idea.” Miranda turned, head returning ramrod straight.

Andy rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what you expected me to do. If you think I was going to let those bastards touch you…or take something that you love away from you, well you-”

“Something I love?” Miranda’s voice was incredulous.

“Yeah?” Andy was confused. “The bag, I’ve seen you carry it a few times. Isn’t it your favorite?”

Miranda pinched the bridge of her nose, begging for patience. “You risked your life for a bag?” She said as though Andy was daft.

“Well when you say it like that…it sounds a bit idiotic.”

Miranda shot her look.

“Alright, a lot idiotic, but it just wasn’t for the bag woman and you know it.” She angrily scoffed her shoes on the pavement. _‘How could the infuriating woman not see why she had done it?’_ Hell, she wasn’t sure why herself, but all she knew was that she’s only felt this rage whenever her family was threatened.

Miranda huffed. “Be more careful. Your boys, they, they need their mother.”

“You’re right, you’re right.” Andy sighed. “I need a break from the city. I was planning to take the boys up to Serena’s little cabin in the Hamptons. I think you and the girls would love it.”

Miranda eyed her, skeptically.

“It’ll be just for a few days. Come on, you need it more than I do.”

_____________________

Back at the penthouse, the children were huddled together playing video games. Charlie had been skeptical and suspicious of the newcomers, he didn’t like change nor did he like strangers, but the twins had given him and his little brother perched on his hip one look and declared that they were all now friends.

He released the nerves and the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding as his brother wiggled from his arm and went to charm the other Priestly women into loving him. Slowly, he approached the trio; he had always been a quiet boy. His mother called him sensitive and intuitive, so he sat there in silence and watched as the girls giggled and laughed with the younger Sachs, eyeing them to make sure no harm came to the baby.

Caroline eyed the boy, and then turned to her sister, who eyed her back knowingly.

“So you gonna introduce yourself or…”

The boy rose to his feet, before tilting his head. “Lord Charles Alexander Kensington Sachs of Westminster, and you are?” His voice was low, but still had the patches of high, expected one going through puberty.

“I’m Caroline Priestly and that’s my sister Cassidy, but you can call us Caro and Cass.”

He nodded, and then offered her a small smile. “Ducky.”

“Ducky?” Cassidy frowned and Charlie expected her to laugh at him, instead she smiled. “That’s cute, I like it. Ducky it is.”

“Do you want to play?” He hesitantly nodded to the giant flat screen and latest gaming console across the room. He’d always kept to himself and had no friends. This was a new experience for him, but he could already tell that he was going to like the two red heads.

“I’ll beat your ass at Injustice.” Caro laughed.

“Language Caroline.” He admonished, and then blushed when he heard himself. He sounded like an old maid, or worse, his governess, who was an old maid.

Caroline threw her head back and laughed, before tugging him across the room. “Come on old man, let’s see what you got.” She teased and the tension drained from him.

Cassidy joined the two on the bean bags, little Azza curled up with her as they watched their siblings battle it on the screen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. – B.S.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. Here’s another chapter, stay safe and I hope you enjoy. – B.S.
> 
> Note: Though the titles are in fact real, everything else is purely fiction.

“Mum?” the voice called from the doorway of the Penthouse’s study.

Miranda looked up with a slight frown at the unfamiliar voice, she had been so lost in assessing and dissecting _the Book,_ she had barely heard the door open. Now she watched the boy whose eyes were locked on the screen of his phone, he had yet to look up and realize that he wasn’t in fact speaking to his mother. When he reached the edge of the desk and finally raised his head, he jerked back startled.

“You’re not Mum.” He frowned.

Miranda tried her best to hide the quirk of her lips but he scrounged his nose so much like Andrea, she couldn’t help herself. “No, I’m not.”

His eyes narrowed for a split second before he continued. “You’re Miranda Priestly. I’ve read about you.”

Miranda stilled, she could only imagine the fodder and gossip the boy had seen about her. She had never really been fund of children, save and except for her own of course. She’d always felt stilted and came across as cold and ‘scary,’ but for some reason she felt at ease with the Sachs children, maybe it was because they felt at ease with her. Azari and now Charles hadn’t looked at her with terror or discomfort, only curiosity and a bit of intrigue at the newcomer they’re mother had allowed around them.

So she braced herself for something, she didn’t know what, but what she did know was that she wanted this boy to…like her? Or at the very least not to despise her.

“Oh?” She asked when he was no longer forth coming.

He nodded quickly, and then offered her a slight smile. “I love your work.”

“My work?” Miranda heard herself, she knew she sounded a bit dumbfounded, but that was really the last thing she had expected.

“Yes, you are, you are the editor-in-chief of Runway.” He began fiddling with the button on his shirt, a nervous habit judging from the slight red of his cheeks as he spoke.

“Yes, yes I am.”

“Last month’s issue was good…” He trailed off, deciding not to continue, but Miranda heard the unspoken _‘but’_.

Normally, no one would dare criticize the meticulous and damn near perfectionist work of Miranda Priestly, less they receive a verbal flaying, but the boy held her gaze, though his brown eyes much like his mother, shifted slightly. Surprisingly, she hadn’t felt defensive or the sudden need to lash out. Instead, she titled her head and eyed the boy, urging him to continue.

“But the colour of the logo clashed horribly with the featured piece.”

Miranda’s brows rose. Of course, she had noticed that, even when the rest of her art department was seemingly blind to it. It was the fault of the idiot printers and she had fired them without hesitation or remorse. It had the first time that Runway had hit the shelves and Miranda was not one hundred percent proud of her creation. She had been slightly distracted by the attempted kidnapping, then the take over and then the by one Lady Andrea Sachs.

At her silence the boy began to fidget, he was only a boy after all, who thought he was going to be in trouble.

“You have a good eye.” She murmured, appraising him.

He rubbed the back of his neck and blushed slightly at the compliment. “Anybody could have seen it.”

She shook her head in disagreement. “But no one else did, not even the people I pay to notice these things.” After a moment, she gestured for him to come around the table. “Come here.” 

As he stood beside her, she pointed to the mock up on in front of them both. His eyes widen and he subconsciously reached forward, trailing his fingers across the pages. “It’s _the Book_.” He whispered with some amount of reverence.

Miranda felt her chest swell with pride at the awe in his voice and eyes.

“Yes it is, you’ve heard of it I take it.”

He snatched back his hand quickly as he shook his head with a purpose. “Of course, I just, I just never thought I’d ever get to see it.”

She hummed, and then with a smile, she lightly bumped his shoulder. “Would you like to go through it with me? I don’t want to offend your sensibilities as some of it is extremely disappointing, but if you’re interested-”

“I am!” He yelled before covering his mouth, surprised at his own outburst.

Miranda threw her head back and laughed. Charlie watched her, completely mesmerized, a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth and suddenly, the tension drained from him, and he felt light. Not the tense and defensive feeling he’d get around strangers. _‘Maybe it was a family trait,’_ he thought when his mind drifted to the two red heads somewhere in his house. He had felt it with them too. He liked it.

______________________

Andy sat on the roof terrace of the balcony, overlooking the glass infinity pool and the Manhattan skyline. She had Azza on her hip, hoisting him up to look through the telescope. The baby, since the moment his Aunt Rena had gifted him a rocket plushy at a few months old, had been obsessed with all things space. Andy watched as he peered through the lens, his body literally shook and wiggled in her arms with excitement.

He’d even developed the propensity of dismantling some of the appliance, and by dismantling, she meant breaking them to see how inside work. He had every intention of building his own space ship, and he refused to let anyone forget. If this obsession kept up, he would be either an astronaut, an aeronautical engineer or an astrophysicist, or maybe all three.

“Do you see it monkey?” She asked as he nodded frantically. “That’s Andromeda.” She had taken to learning the constellations with him.

“Amomeda!” He squealed as his mother set him down.

“No monkey. Andromeda.” She said patiently.

“Amomeda!”

“An.”

“An” He mimicked her.

“Dro.”

“Dro.” His brows furrowed in concentration.

“Me.”

“Me.”

“Da!”

“Da!”

“See, Andromeda!”

“Amomeda!” He yelled once more, offering her a grin, quite pleased with himself.

Behind them, Caroline and Cassidy giggled and laughed at Andy’s clear exasperation. With a snort, she eyed her little one and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Alright wee man, Amomeda it is.”

He giggled before running to the lounge chairs and diving on Cassidy who began tickling him mercilessly, reaching for Caroline, he yelled for her to save him and the three fell to ground in a little tussle.

“Charles is a genius.” Miranda said by way of greeting as she stormed out unto the terrace.

Andy leaned back in the hanging chair, one leg propped up while the other hung down. “Of course.” She said without hesitation, her eyes still on the ‘wrestling’ trio.

“He’s, he’s insightful and sharp and has an amazing eyes for colour and desig- Caroline and Cassidy Priestly what are you doing?!” Miranda finally realized what was drawing Andrea’s focus.

“Wha?” Caroline looked up from the floor, Azza’s head popping up behind her, confused as to why the fun had stopped. When he saw Miranda, his eyes brightened again.

“Fairy Queen!”

He rushed forward and slammed his little body into her legs, Andy, foreseeing what her little monkey was going to do was up and behind Miranda in a flash, bracing herself as the older woman fell into her arms.

“Fancy seeing you here.” Andy whispered with a grin when Miranda peered up at her.

With a roll of her eyes, Miranda pushed herself off the brunette before wrangling the young lord from around her feet, then hoisted him unto her hips and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Behind her Charlie walked out munching on a banana, when he made his way over to the twins, he crouched down and sat with them on the floor. Cassidy took the fruit, bit it, and then handed it back to him. The trio watched their parents with rapt attention; suddenly a light flickered on in Caroline’s brain. “Duuuuuude.” She whispered to the two.

“What?” Cassidy and Charles replied in unison.

“This Hampton's trip, we can start the plan there.”

“Plan?” Charlie frowned.

“Yeah _the pla_ -” Cassidy began but then remembered. “Oh wait you don’t know the plan.”

“We have let him in on it.” Caroline pipped up.

“In on what?” He turned to the other girl.

“ _The plan_ Ducky, keep up.” Cassidy answered.

“Will you just tell me what it is?” He said in exasperation.

“Do you want your Mum to be happy?” Caroline smiled.

His brows furrowed, “Of course.”

“And we want our Mom to be happy too.”

“Okaaay?”

“I mean they’re so amazing awesome and amazing apart, could you imagine of they were…” Caroline trailed off but wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Charles turned to Cassidy who was rolling her eyes at her sister. “Together Ducky, we’re trying to get them together.”

“ _Oh?_ Oh! You want them, oh.” He frowned. “Do you know if they like each other like, like that?”

“Well Mom acts weird anytime she’s around Andy, and she’s just like Megan when she was crushing on Joey.”

“Megan and Joey, right.” Charlie was pretty sure he was lost.

“Plus we overheard Uncle Nigel say they have wicked sexual tension.”

“Wh-what’s that?” For some reason he didn’t like the sound of that.

“I dunno, let’s look it up.” The tri huddled around Caroline’s phone as she searched. After reading the first link, they sat back blushing, stared at each other, and then shuddered violently.

“Let’s never do that again.” Cassidy cringed at the thought of her Mom and Andy, oh god she really didn’t want to think of it.

Charlie tugged at the collar of his shirt in discomfort. “So.” He cleared his throat. “The plan?”

“You’re in?” Cassidy eyes lit, her discomfort forgotten.

He nodded as the two squealed and jumped on him in excitement.

___________________

“So you were saying about Ducky?”

“Yes, yes. He truly has a gift Andrea, one that needs to be honed and nurtured.”

Andy eyed her son for a moment before turning back to the editor.

“If you’ll allow it, I’d like for him to come to Runway once or twice a week to-”

“Wait you want to mentor him?”

“Of course.” Miranda scoffed, “A talent like his only deserves the best.” He raised her head, daring Andy to contest. The truth was that she didn’t trust anyone not to take advantage of him or try stunting him out of petty jealous. Under her, he would flourish and rise, she would push him to greatness, and he had the ability to be a breathtaking designer and the eye that could lead the industry one day, like her.

Andy eyed the woman, assessing and searching, but just as quickly, her face dissolved into an easy smile. “Whatever you think is best and if he agrees to it.”

“I do!” Charlie pipped up behind them with the widest grin Andy had ever seen. How could she have possibly said no when he was this excited. Beside him, Cassidy and Caroline playfully bumped his shoulder with thumps up.

“I’ll make the arrangements.” Miranda’s eyes soften as she watched the three on the ground. “and have the schedule sent to you.”

Andy nodded in contentment as she returned to her seat. “I’ve told them already.” She nodded to their children. “We’re leaving around 7 tomorrow morning, okay.”

Miranda had almost forgotten about their impromptu trip to the Hamptons. She and the girls had visited a few times, but not enough for her to purchase a vacation home there, still she found herself actually looking forward to the little break. She hadn’t taken a vacation in over a decade. She deserved this.

“I just need to confirm a few things with Serena.” She muttered absently, she then took out her phone and pulled up their group chat.

_‘RENA!’_

_‘Yes!?’_

_‘Whre r u? U left early this morning and you aren’t back yet.’_

_‘I noe, have some stuff to take care of. Cristi?’_

_‘Prob still banging his boyfriend’s brains out._ ’ Andy snickered.

‘ _U’re disgusting._ ’ Serena rolled her eyes.

Andy sent her the _‘winking face with tongue’_ emoji before continuing. _‘U get my msg about the cabin?’_

_‘Yh, I called the housekeeper, everything is set.’_

_‘Great great. We’re leaving early tomoz, hang when I get back?’_

_‘ofc. Have fun n kiss the munchkins for me.’_

____________________

“I don’t think you’ve grasped the meaning of the word _‘little’_.” Miranda said dryly as she stepped out of the luxury SUV.

At the far end of a long graveled driveway, and surrounded by well manicured lawns a rectangular pond, sat a massive chalet-style bungalow nestled in a pocket of light, semi-woodland. The ‘cabin’ accented by the view of the crashing ocean behind it and the greenery was truly breathtaking.

Andy rolled her eyes at Miranda, as the housekeepers unloaded their bags. “What do you all want to do after breakfast?”

Cassidy turned to Charlie. “Hey Ducky, have you ever been to the Mall?”

“Ah no, we have shoppers that-”

“Great! So we can take you after!”

“Okay.” He said slowly, confused about the girls’ excitement.

“So you want us to drop you off?”

“No, no. We want you and Mom to come.”

“You don’t think its lame to go to the mall with your parents?” Andy teased, gently poking the girl.

“We’ll ditch you when we get there.” Caroline smirked.

“Is that so?” Andy laughed. “Well thanks for the heads up.”

“Anytime.” The girl offered her an exasperated wink as Andy ruffled her hair. Behind them Miranda watched with a slight smile.

___________________

They had been roaming the luxury mall for what seemed like eons. The little trio had made good on Caroline’s word and ditched Miranda and Andy, at least Azza had decided to stay with them. Miranda had been skeptical at first but Andrea had reassured her that they were under surveillance and was being monitored by guards so she needn’t worry.

Now they strolled aimlessly from store to store, Azza clutching on to his Mama’s back, his little hands wrapped around her neck.

“Mama! Fairy Queen! Look!” He pointed to a toy store and in the window was some sort of toy contraption that changed into either a space ship or a rocket.

The boy was mesmerized.

“Pease Mama, pease!”

Andy sighed, the baby already had trunks and trunks of toys, some he’d played with once then discarded without thought. She really didn’t want to spoil him so badly. He wiggled off her back before grabbing her and Miranda’s hand and tugging them to the window.

He looked up and maybe it was the look on Andy’s face but he knew he was about to be denied so he switched tactics.

“Fairy Queen pease?!” He jutted out his lower lips and widened his eyes, Uncle Cristi had taught him the look and he hoped it wouldn’t fail him now. “Pease?” he whispered.

“I-” Miranda looked helpless as the little boy clutched onto her hand and gave her a look that was sure to melt hearts. She knew she was being manipulated, she knew it, but she didn’t have the strength or the care to fight it. “Of course baby, let’s go get it.” Azza jumped up and down cheering, wiggling his butt as he pressed his hand against the mirror. _‘Soon it would be his,’_ he thought in a pure happiness.

Behind her, Andy snorted. “Weak.” She whispered as Miranda shot her look.

“Would you have been able to say no to that?”

Andy smiled at her. “Am I to be the bad cop from now on then? Because now that he knows it works he’ll tell Ducky and the twins, your days will be numbered Priestly.”

Miranda sniffed, before turning to the little one. “Come along Azari, we have a toy to procure.”

Azza ran and clutched her hand as the two entered the store, he wasn’t sure what procure meant, but once he got his toy, he was all for it.

Again, Andy chuckled while following behind the two.

__________________

“Why the Mall? Not that I mind, but…” Charlie was curious.

“That’s what people do on dates right? Got to the movies, or dinner, or to the mall, at least that’s what Megan says.” Caroline said as she picked up a pair of sunglasses and

tried them on.

_‘Who was this all knowing Megan that sprouted such sage advice?’_ Charlie thought as he nodded. “So this will make them fall in love?”

“Well, I dunno, it’s a start. Maybe they’ll start liking each other.” Cassidy answered as she giggled at the goofy sunglasses her sister had perched on Ducky’s face.

“Ah.” He wasn’t too sure about the Mall idea, but as they said, it was a start right, and he hadn’t seen his Mom smile so much or so relaxed. He’d try anything.

_____________

“As I live and breathe, is that you Miranda Priestly.”

Miranda tensed at the voice that was rapidly approaching her. She was standing by the _Hermes_ entrance while Andrea had taken Azari to buy a cold drink around the corner. How she wished she had gone with them now.

“That white hair couldn’t hide anywhere.” The voice was right beside her now.

Of course, it was just her luck that she’d run into Cecile Montgomery. The woman was vile and irritating at the very least and an offence to Miranda’s sensibilities at the most.

“Cecile how are you?” Miranda plastered her fake smile unto her lips as they leaned forward for the customary air kisses to the cheek.

“Miranda dear, why didn’t you tell me you would be in the Hampton? We haven’t seen you in so long?” The woman’s voice was sickly sweet, but her eyes were sharp.

“I decided on a whim to take a few days, no one knows.” Miranda gritted. She’d really despised the Montgomery woman, who was always trying to find some way to put Miranda down. She was a pesky nuisance as her words had little effect on the editor. It was the over the top perfume and garish clothes and jewelry that really annoyed Miranda. She rolled her eyes, _‘and they called her new money,’_ she thought.

“A whim? You spontaneous? I don’t believe it.” The woman laughed. “I heard that was why Stephen left, the lack of spontaneity.” She tittered again. “Oh Miranda, I’m so sorry, how are you holding up with the divorce? With it being what, your forth? It must be a breeze for you by now.”

Miranda smiled, but it was more like the baring of teeth and her eyes narrowed, the woman drew back. Enough of this insipid woman. “How is Richard?” She referred to the woman’s husband as her voice lowered. “I saw him at the Ritz in Manhattan a few weeks ago with a charming twenty something young lady. Cinnamon with an ‘S’, I believe her name was. Tells you all you really need to know I’d say.” She patted her chin. “Very scandalous indeed.” She finished sharply.

The two stared at each other, but Miranda could tell the other woman was wilting. Within moments, the woman turned her face from Miranda, swallowing as she tried composing herself. “I’m having a soiree by the house later; you and the girls should come. It starts at 7.”

“We’ll be there.”

The two had yet to stop _‘smiling’_ at each other.

“Great! Ta dear.” She leaned over and they air kissed before she was off again.

“So we hate her I take it.” Andy said from behind her.

Miranda whipped around. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to know that we hate her.”

The editor nodded before turning around once more.

“Are we really going to that soiree?” Andy was skeptical.

Miranda had never felt more relief at the word _‘we._ ’ “Of course, I can’t have that vile woman thinking she got to me.”

Beside her Azza raised his juice box, eagerly offering the woman a sip. Andy almost snorted at the sight of The Miranda Priestly, drinking from little juice box before she handed the carton back to the satisfied toddler. “Come along Azari, we have much to do.” The boy quickly fell into step with her as Andy stood, watching them walk away. “Any time that is convenient for you to start moving, please let me know Andrea. I just love waiting, it thrills me so.”

Andy sorted at this. “I just saw you drink out of a juice box, you can’t intimidate me after that.”

“Can’t I?” She purposely poked Andy in the ribs none too gently.

“Motherfu…” She clamped her mouth shut when Azza shot her the stink eye.

“Mama! You said a bad word!’

Miranda smirked as Andy gaped.

“That’s low even for you Priestly.” Miranda shrugged. “Mama is sorry baby, I’ll put money in the swear jar when we get home.”

Azza nodded and returned to his juice box, satisfied with his policing.

“I’ll get you back for that.”

“Promises, promises.”

____________

The soiree was a riot of colours. As they entered, they saw that most of the women were elegantly donned in dresses while the men wore tuxedos of various colours and cuts. The Sachs-Priestly clan drew almost every eye upon their arrival, as was to be expected. The group of six stole the show with their beauty, sophistication and elegance. Cecile Montgomery was surely regretting the moment she had extended the invitation. Miranda could see it from the set of her jaw and the way her eyes narrowed as she approached.

“Go on and try to have fun.” Miranda called out to the children.

“Yeah right.” Caroline groaned. Knowing these stuffy boring types, the kids here were normally jerks who only wanted to brag about what just bought or where they’d gone, it got boring really really quickly. She was lucky she had Cass, Ducky and even little Azza who had been shadowing them from evening. At least they would keep each other company. The four moved towards the food, leaving their parents to mingle or whatever.

“Oh Miranda, you made it.” The Montgomery woman’s smile was strained.

“I always keep my word.”

“Of course, who is this?” She turned to Andrea. “Your assistant?” Cecile eyed the woman with some interest, she was very intrigued, maybe she could convince the woman to have a drink with her.

Miranda noticed the way the other woman’s eyes gleamed as they raked up and down her Andrea. _‘How dare this vile creature think she could just, could just.’_

“This is Lady Andrea Sachs of Westminster.” She found herself gritting out.

“Lady?” The woman’s eyes gleamed more.

Miranda froze when she felt Andrea’s arm wrap around her waist, pulling her closer until they were pressed against each other’s sides.

“So formal my Lady?” Andy whispered loud enough for the other woman and those who were eavesdropping to hear. “Please,” She turned to the woman. “You may call me Your Grace.” She finished and Miranda almost guffawed.

Turning her head, Miranda bit out lowly. “What are you doing?”

“Play along; we’ll kill them with curiosity.” Andy bent and pressed a kiss a little below Miranda’s ear. “Who is your friend, My Lady?” The aristocrat drawled the title, her voice sounding like pure, raw sex and it sent shivers down Miranda’s spine. She wasn’t the only one from the way Cecile’s hands clutched her Champagne glass tighter.

Oh, this would be fun indeed.

“My darling?”

“Hmmm?”

“Meet Cebil Montenegro.”

Cecile’s eyes snapped to Miranda with pure venom, but she tried laughing it off. “Oh Miranda, you’re so funny. It’s _Cecile Montgomery_ Your Grace.” She held out her hand.

Andy barely shook the other woman’s hand for a second. “It was good of you to extend an invitation to us Cebil.” Andy caught Miranda’s eyes as they danced with mirth. The editor ran her hand up and down Andy’s, causing the woman to lose all train of thought and decency. Who knew Miranda would be so affectionate, and this was just pretend.

The touch to others would seem innocent, but Andy knew better. It was the mischievous look in Miranda’s eye, one she thought she’d never see, but there it was. Gleaming as she taunted Andy, her breath on her neck, her voice low and god, what was she doing?! Was this her payback for the ruse?

“ _Cecile_.”

“Hmm.”

“So you really are a Lady?”

Andy merely nodded. Still distracted by her white haired vixen’s wandering hand.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I am the future Duchess of both Westminster and Blackwater.”

“Oh? That’s so exciting; my family came over on the Mayflower.” She said with pride.

Miranda rolled her eyes. The woman told the story every time they saw each other. Everyone just had to know her pedigree.

“That’s nice Cebil.” Andy’s voice was tight as her eyes narrowed on Miranda who smirked back. _‘Why that…! She was teasing her!’_ “Excuse us for a moment won’t you Cebil?” Andy, without waiting for a response, pulled Miranda in the direction of the main house.

“Cecile!” She called out frustrated. _‘Why did Miranda always get the good things!?’_ She snapped as she stomped her foot. _‘If anybody was to be with an Aristocrat, it should be her!’_

“Andrea, what on earth are you doing?” Miranda came to her senses quickly as Andrea pulled her into the house, pass the other guest and through the first door she found, which happened to be a powder room.

Turning to her, Andy ran a hand through her hair before speaking. “You’re really a tease you know that Priestly.”

Miranda sniffed. “I have no idea what you mean.”

Rolling her eyes, she leaned back against the sink. “Of course you don’t.”

“Why have you dragged me in here like some neanderthal?”

“We needed to cool off before we did something that would scar our children.”

She gave Andy a pointed look. “Fine, fine, before I did something.”

Miranda sat down on one of the chairs in room. After a moment of silence, she spoke. “Blackwater?”

“Hmm?” Andy replied absentmindedly.

“Blackwater, what is? I’ve only ever heard you speak about Westminster.”

“Ah,” She nodded. “It’s my mother’s title; she’s the Duchess of Blackwater in her own right.”

“Do you have any more titles just hiding about?”

At Andy’s cheeky grin, Miranda pinched the bridge of her nose. “Oh god, you do don’t you?”

“Just two more.”

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“What are they? Next you’ll be telling me that you’re the princess of some small island nation off the coast of Italy or something.”

Andy laughed as she eyed Miranda. “Didn’t your people look me up when I first came?”

“Yes.” She wasn’t ashamed. “And they found nothing-.”

Andy bit her lower lip, watching as Miranda’s eyes drew to it.

“My paternal grandmother was the daughter of the House Sforza of Italy. Her title was the Duchess of Milan, Duchess of Bari, Lady of Pesaro, Marquessa of Caravaggio, Countessa of Cotignola and Lady of Catell’Arquato. Her title fell to me after she died when I was four.”

Miranda gaped at her.

“Should I continue?” She teased.

Miranda nodded.

“My maternal grandmother was Swedish, and she was the Countess of House Bielke. The title fell to me when I was sixteen after she died. Should I go further into my ancestry or…”

Miranda shook her head before clearing her throat. “Well then, it seems you weren’t exaggerating your blue blood.”

Andy shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”

The editor laughed dryly. “Only someone who has it would say that.”

Andy sat back and watched the woman, her eyes trailing down her neck to her…

“You know…” Andy breathed out quietly as she pushed herself from the sink and slowly approached Miranda. They were close as she leaned over, her body hovered over the editor’s, and their breaths were mingling.

Miranda’s mind flashed to that night a few weeks ago, the night that had haunted her dreams since. The one that had her almost touching herself, but she always refused to give in.

“What are you doing?” Miranda tried for casual calmness.

“You’re my Lady, I’m just, just playing the part.” Her voice was husky and low. With a quirked eyebrow, her amber eyes latched on to artic blue that was darkening with every second. Andy could see and she knew Miranda was looking at the very same thing. A pent up desire that caused the air in the room to thicken.

Miranda swallowed. “Oh?” She breathed out. “I guess I should too right?”

“Mhmm, we can never be too careful.” Andy murmured back, staring at Miranda’s slightly parted lips.

Miranda felt herself inching closer to the other woman as if pulled by an invisible string. Outside, the two could hear the faint sound of conversation and music drifting through the door, but nothing could break the bubble they had found themselves locked in. Andy pulled Miranda to her feet, before turning them both and slowly with a purpose; she pushed the other woman back, until she was pressed against the edge of the sink.

Miranda almost moaned at the feeling of Andrea’s lower body pressing against hers. Her breath hitched when Andy pressed her palms on either side of the glass, pushing herself closer to her editor.

“Just to keep up appearances of course.” Miranda mumbled as she arched her neck, moving her lips closer to Andy’s.

“My Lady.” She mumbled reverently on Miranda’s lips. She trailed her lower lip, sliding it against Miranda’s as her hands ran up the editor’s sides until they cupped the back of her neck. “Whatever you wish.”

Both women moaned lowly as they finally kissed. Miranda’s hands gripped the aristocrat’s waist tightly as the woman ran her hand through Miranda’s previously perfect coif. Miranda’s insides quivered as Andrea’s tongue slid across her own, coaxing it. One hand fisted the brunette’s waist while the other scratched down her back with a fury and ache.

Andy felt the editor’s hand near her arse, and she had no intention of stopping her or complaining. She was too drunk off the woman’s lips and moans to even care that they were in the powder room of someone else’s home.

Miranda groaned before sucking on Andy’s tongue, who chased the editor’s mouth with her own. Andy pinned Miranda to the sink, both their knees felt like jelly, they could barely keep standing. Their bodies were flushed and buzzing with arousal and Miranda knew without a doubt that she was incredibly wet. Miranda thought of all their fights and arguments, the heat pouring off them, the energy cackling in between. If she really allowed herself to think, she’d realized that the woman had her soaked and waiting from the moment she’d arched her brow in _‘La Reina.’_

“Pull my zipper down.” She panted to the brunette before reclaiming her lips.

Andy released a breathy whimper and without hesitation scrambled for the back of Miranda’s dress. She seemed eager but she didn’t care, she wanted, no needed to feel the woman’s skin under her fingers, to bring them both so close to the edge that they’d be begging to jump off.

Miranda’s breath hitched when she felt one of Andy’s hands on her bare back and the other trailing up her bare calf to her thigh.

“Touch me.” Andy groaned in her ear, her husky voice almost coarse, as her lips brushed against Miranda's neck before she licked the skin and began sucking once more. Miranda dissolved into a puddle as her hands fisted the material at Andy back, and then lowered until she reach Nirvana. The brunette let out a breathy moan and subtly rocked her hips against Miranda's.

Miranda felt lightheaded and dizzy as Andy's hands danced down her sides and to her arse until she was picking Miranda up and placing her onto the counter, wedging herself between her thighs. The familiarity of the position had them both whimpering as memories, mixed with the sensations flowing through pushed them closer and closer.

Miranda released in a surprised gasp that barely made any sound; her fingers instantly threading through think dark hair as Andy's hands ran up the icon’s legs until her dress was hitched around her thighs. The Miranda directed Andy's chin towards her mouth and both girls were moaning again as they kissed deeply.

“Oh fuck…” Andy moaned softly, as her eyes trailed down the front of Miranda’s dress, a desire she refused to give into since the woman had draped herself in it earlier that evening. “I swear you’ve been teasing me with this dress.” She husked in Miranda’s ear. She could clearly see Miranda's breasts and her body flamed at the sight. Her tongue remembering the feeling, she needed them more than she needed air.

Miranda felt Andy’s hand inching higher, and everything in her fought to tell the woman to go higher, move further. Would she be crazy to tell the other woman to fuck her senseless in the powder room of a woman she despised. Andy's forehead was resting on Miranda's shoulder, her eyes staring down the neckline of Miranda's dress, while the editor sunk her teeth into the brunette's skin.

Two loud knocks sounded and the women jerked away from one another as they traded hazy, lust filled panicked looks.

“Just a moment!” Andy called out as she tried straightening her clothes. “Shit, fuck!” She shook her head, trying to clear the fog of Miranda that rendered incapable of cognitive thought. “I’ll get rid of whoever it is.”

Miranda was barely able to manage a nod before Andy slid through a small opening of the door. She was still flushed and the ghost of Andy on her body was flat lining her mind.

“Cebil.” Andy was growing annoyed by the woman, her eyes narrowed as they tried communicating with the woman to fuck off.

Instead, she huffed. “It’s Cecile.”

Andy looked at the woman as though she were slow. “Was there something you needed?”

“Well, yes you see. I was wondering if you and I could have a night cap.” Her eyes squinted in an attempt to appear sexy.

Andy barely heard the woman, her mind still on the taste of Miranda’s lips, the feel of her tongue and her hands as she-

“Your Grace?”

“Yes?”

“The Night cap?”

“Night cap?” Andy knew she had missed something important but wasn’t sure what.

“I was saying that you could ditch Miranda and join me here later tonight.” She tried whispering conspiratorially, “I heard she’s a frigid bitch in bed.”

Andy stared at the woman for a split second before laughing. She threw her head back and laughed, tears leaking down her face. She thought of the woman who nearly burned down this idiot’s house with the share force of her passion and burning sex appeal. Frigid bitch?

“Are you a moron, or has years of inbreeding made you slow?” Andy finally snapped. “On what plane of existence could I ever leave Miranda’s bed and go to yours?” She scoffed. “Away from me with your foolishness and-”

Behind them the door flew open and Miranda stormed out. She had done little to fix her hair, which still had a sexy ‘I’ve just been shagged within an inch of my life vibe’. Her lips though the lipstick had been reapplied was clearly swollen and her eyes were glassy and wide.

Cecile’s eyes widen when the dots started connecting. The colour on Miranda’s lips was the same shade that marred Andy’s collar, neck and chest. The two looked as though they had been ravaged yet the sexual frustration still permeated around them.

Miranda shot the woman a venomous stare before turning, grabbing one Andrea Sachs, then proceeded to kiss her so thoroughly, and with so much passion that even Cecil’s breath hitched.

“Come along my darling.” She brushed passed the woman with a smirk.

Andy watched as the editor walked away with a glazed look in her eye. “Whatever My Lady wishes.” She followed with a grin forgetting the presence of the other woman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. Even the little things. – B.S.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. Here’s another chapter, stay safe and I hope you enjoy. – B.S.
> 
> Please note that there is use of racial epithets in two instances in this chapter and it is no way a reflection of the Authors views or beliefs. Please be advised accordingly.

Miranda stormed out of the main house, her eyes scanning the crowd for the children. She really wanted, no needed to get out of here. She wasn’t sure what just happened in the powder room, but one thing was for certain, had Cecile not interrupted, she would have let Andrea take her right then and there against the bathroom sink with wild abandon.

Even now, her lips tingled, her skin buzzed and she felt drunk, even without a single drop of alcohol in her system, she was intoxicated. She was intoxicated by the taste of the woman on her tongue, the feel of her under her fingers, the press of her weight against her body. Andrea had looked at her as though she was the only being on the planet who could bring her to her knees; there was such blatant, burning want and desire with every stroke, every kiss, every look.

Even now the editor’s breath hitched and she fought against her body's desire to grab the young aristocrat and pull her back into their little bubble and demand that she finished what she started. How could one person, one woman affect her so? With that irritating, heart stopping smirk and that ridiculous mouthwatering arch of her brow, Miranda felt herself drowning, and the worse part was that in the moment, she didn’t mind one bit.

She had to get out of here, she had to go home, lock herself in her room and search for her senses, because Andrea had seemingly kissed them away. A cold shower and a shot of single malt ought to do the trick. She couldn’t afford allowing herself to fall for the other woman’s charm.

Contrary to what the CEO believed, Miranda did in fact do _some_ research on the woman, and as little as her finding were, one thing was certain and apparent. The other woman glided across Europe and Asia, honing her seduction like a well cultivated flower, like a perfectly aged vintage. She moved from bed to bed with an ease and charm that was staggering, yet no one had a bad thing to say about the woman. All her former partners, regardless of how brief, adored her. She treated them with respect, kindness and made her time with them, irrespective of how short, like a fairytale, world wind romance and when she left? It was with contentment and an understanding that the lust or whatever was felt between them had ran its course.

That terrified Miranda if she were being honest with herself. How easy it would be for her to just fall to fate, to succumb to the feeling that was bubbling away since that fateful day in Chef Alejandro’s restaurant. It would be so easy; to give herself with carefree abandon; but Miranda knew herself. Contrary to what other’s believe her to be, _the Frigid Bitch, the Ice Queen,_ She had always been a little romantic at heart, not that she would ever admit it to anyone.

A young, more idealistic, wide-eyed Miranda had searched for it, falling in love with the black and white smiles of Humphrey Bogart and Carey Grant. It was something about how they were so easy with their charms, how they found the women who captured them and then wooed them so effortlessly and with determination. She had wanted that once upon a time, but as the years passed, and husbands came and went, she realized with startling clarity that those movies were just that, movies.

There would be no roguish figure who made her heart stop, wooing her within an inch of her sensibilities. They were all the same, no matter how hard she tried, how much effort she put in, it always ended the same, him with his secretary’s or some underling’s lipstick on his cock and she with a broken heart. A broken heart that hardened, and by the third ‘ _Mr. Priestly’_ and fifth paramour, she was well and truly versed in the art and coldly dismissed him with a flick of the wrist

So yes, she was terrified, of course she was, how easy it would be for her armour to crack and her stupid heart go yearning after something that was most certainly a passing fancy for someone who gave their affections so easily. She would be the one left devastated behind in the dust, trying desperately to pick up the shattered pieces of her heart, trying desperately to piece them together so that some semblance remained.

All the while the other woman would be off, gallivanting somewhere else in the world, a younger, more beautiful woman than she on her arm, in her bed, lips on hers, hands on her body. That would break her all over again. No, she couldn’t afford someone to wield such power over her, and the thing that brought her up short was that yes, Andrea had that power. Even her past lovers and husband, barely held such sway over her. The feeling she had thought was lust and passion, in comparison with a single kiss from the brunette, paled in comparison. It was like comparing the flicker of match with the surface of the sun, there _was_ no comparison.

She sighed to herself, pinching the bridge of her nose, a testament to how unraveled the younger woman had left her, that she would stand amoung others, and display such genuine emotions. She really needed to leave. Again, she scanned the area looking for the children, when she heard a commotion by the pool, one that was drawing quite the crowd. Something propelled her to move forward, maybe it was curiosity or motherly intuition that spurred her on.

______________

Cassidy, Charles, Azari and Caroline looked at their spoils, spread out like a little feast under a canopy by the pool. Cass had quickly scouted the spot while the other three transported various sweets and delights to their new base. _‘Maybe this wouldn’t be so boring,’_ Cass thought as she settled herself on the edge of the mattress. She liked having Ducky and even a babbling Azza around, not that she had felt anything lacking with her sister, but somehow, now she felt…full, complete. She giggled as she watched Caro and Ducky bicker over the last cookie, which was promptly snatched and gobbled up by a triumphant Azza.

Cassidy guffawed at the gaping disbelieving look the two shot the youngest of their little group, before Caro pounced, tickling the young boy who squealed and laughed. As the three finally settled, Charles eyed both Caroline and Cassidy curiously.

“What?” Cass drew his attention solely to her.

“Nothing.” He turned away quickly.

She rolled her eyes, she never thought she’d meet someone more reserved than her, but here he was. “Come on Ducky, what is it?”

His mouth quirked a little. “I don’t have many friends…” Beside him little Azza scoffed, he was pretty sure he was his big brother’s only friend. Charlie shot him a look, and then ruffled his hair with a roll of his eyes. “Fine, I don’t have any…” Again, Azza scoffed. “ _Except_ for Azza.” The little boy grunted in agreement before attacking the cake, the twins watched the two with amusement. With the little troublemaker sufficiently distracted, Charlie continued. “But I-I like you both, you don’t make me feel…feel weird, you know. So, so thanks.” He rushed out, as red spots blossomed on his cheek.

“We’re not friends Ducky...” Caroline finally spoke.

“Oh. I-I…” He swallowed, and then tugged at the collar of his dress shirt. His cheek reddened further and his jaw tensed, he looked as though he were fighting a losing battle with tears. Safe to say he was sufficiently embarrassed. Azza’s head shot up, cake smeared across half his face, but he was frowning in confusion much like Cassidy.

“We’re family.” Caro finished with an easy smile. “Even if our plan doesn’t work, which it _will_ , you’re our brother Ducky.” She turned to Cassidy who nodded in agreement. “Always.” She tugged his neck in a headlock and playfully ruffled his hair.

Beside them Azza slapped the mattress. “Hey!” He said in indignation, a pout pulling at his lips. What about him?

“You too of course baby bro.” Cassidy said while pressing a kiss to the baby’s cheek. 

Azza nodded like a benevolent king, the _‘You better,’_ evident in the way he arched his brow at his newfound siblings.

As the group continued chatting aimlessly about their favorite things, their dislikes, places they’ve travelled and cities they wanted to see, they felt contented. Suddenly, young Azza rose to his feet, all the cake and sweets had made him desperately thirsty.

“Juice pease?” He said to them.

Cassidy was the one who rose. They all knew that they couldn’t have the little boy wondering about by himself, plus if he went for his own juice and walked back, half the cup would end up on his clothes and they all shuddered to think of the look on Miranda’s face if she saw that.

“I’ll take him, and we need napkins to clean up.” She gestured to the little boy’s sticky hands and face.

“I’ll take him.” Charlie moved to get up.

“It’s fine Ducky, I got it. Come on Azza.” She reached for him as she stepped off the mattress. Holding on to his shoulder, she steered him through the crowd, but Azza was still a baby and sometimes his desires got the best of him, so as the drink fountains came into view he rushed ahead, running smack into the body of older boy.

With an _‘oof!’_ he tumbled onto the floor as the other boy pushed him. Cassidy rushed to him with an “Azza!” She lifted him to his feet, brushing off his back and checking him over for injuries. She could see that he was stunned as his little lip wobbled slightly. “You okay?” She whispered to make sure she hadn’t missed anything.

“I’m okay.” His voice was low as he sniffed.

Cassidy spun around, anger pulsing off her. “What the hell man, you pushed him!”

The boy, probably no older than sixteen or seventeen, towered over the Priestly. “That little fucker ruined my suit!” He snapped, gesturing to a little patch on his dress pants that had been smeared with cake icing.

“He’s a baby you moron! And don’t you call him that you asshole!” Cassidy was never one to lose her temper, that was her sister’s job, but the way the boy had looked at Azza and pushed him, something in her snapped. She barely registered that the older boy was almost twice her size.

“I don’t fucking care, this is vintage Armani, you think you can replace this bitch!?” He clearly was unaware whom he was talking to. He stalked towards her, Cassidy tugged Azza behind her then titled her head up, daring him to do something. “You and that fucking…”

His next words shocked Cassidy into stillness. Her eyes narrowed and her mouth pursed, much like her mother. “What. Did. You. Just. Say?” Her voice was low, cold and sharp and it brought the boy up short, stilling his movement as he contemplated whether he had made a mistake, but as his two friends egged him on, he smirked before repeating the words.

Before Cassidy could even move, a flash of red blurred pass her. Within second, one Caroline Priestly was leaping through the air. Cassidy wasn’t even sure when her sister had arrived, but before she knew what was happening, Caroline had punched the boy so soundly that he his neck snapped back as he fell to the ground. Then, without even a moments respite, Caroline was on him, beating the boy with everything within her. _‘How dare this asshole, talk about her brother like that! How dare he!’_ Her thoughts were jumbled, but her fists were quick and fierce.

Charlie was beside Cassidy, watching stunned as Caroline pummeled the bleeding boy, he hadn’t even gotten a chance to throw any punches as the red head was relentless. 

“That’s right! Cry you little bitch! I’ll kill you, you motherfucker! Talking about my brother like that you piece of shit!?” She punched him with each sentence.

It was the movement of the boy’s other friends that spurred them into action, they looked as if they were going to grab the red head. “Fuck no!” Cassidy seethed before she and Charlie dove into the fray, each tackling a boy, rolling around as they punched, scratched and kicked.

Little Azza stood wide eyed as his siblings fought, but when he saw the mean boy reaching out to smack Cassidy he ran, throwing all his weight as he jumped head first hitting the boy right in his crotch. The boy squealed, grabbing unto his ‘jewels’ as he dropped to his knees with a wheeze.

Around them, the adults finally took notice of the commotion. Finally, they had the presence of mind to pull the two girls and boy off the whimpering trio, leaving them on the ground bleeding crying. The Sachs-Priestly children struggled in the arms of the men who held them.

“What is the meaning of this?” A voice snapped, stilling the crowd and wiggling children. Miranda stood in full battle mode. “Unhand my children.” Her voice whipped out coldly. The hands that held them loosened with a quickness. Miranda assessed the situation quickly. The bruised and battered boys who were being helped to their feet then to the twins, Charlie and Azza who were breathing heavily, body taunt as though they were ready for another round. She nodded at them to come to her. Their clothes were torn and dirty, she tilted Charlie’s face to her noticing that he had a slight bruise on his cheek but other than that, the four seemed fine. “Injuries?”

The four shook their head.

Behind them, Cecile rushed forward, moving towards the boy who started it all, fixing his hair as she wiped the blood from his face. Andy wasn’t far behind, within moments she was by Miranda’s side. Her eyes narrowed as she assessed the situation. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Those fuckers attacked us! We’ll sue!” The boy shouted. “Mom Tell em we’ll sue!” He yelled at Cecile.

Of course, the vapid boy belonged to her.

“Control your son before I lose my temper.” Andy snapped.

The other woman’s eyes narrowed in pure hatred towards Miranda. Always ruining everything for her, always coming in the way of things that were rightfully hers. Her eyes shot to the aristocrat, then to Miranda’s children and the two boys. “Miranda your daughters attacked my boy.” She said quietly.

“Whatever the reason was, I’m sure it was justified.” She said even more quietly.

“You self-involved bitch.” Cecile seethed.

Finally, the air of ‘ _friendliness’_ she wore around Miranda was dissolving.

“Such class, is that anyway for a _daughter of the Mayflower_ to speak?” Miranda’s voice was scathing, dripping with mockery.

Cecile’s forehead throbbed. “At least I’m not some Jew from some back water, shit country!” She snapped back. The crowd gasped in disbelief that the woman had actually said that. She then turned her sights on Azza, eyeing the little boy with disdainful amusement. “And what’s that? Took in a towel head for two cents a day?”

“The fuck you just said?!” Caroline leaped up, but it was Andy’s hand on her shoulder that stilled her movements. She looked up at Andy, whose eyes burned, her body was taunt and her jaw was tense. Caroline, had never seen her so angry, neither had Charlie, who pulled Caroline back by the hand.

“Ah, I see.” Miranda turned to the children. “I assume the boy shared the same sentiment as his mother and that was what led to this…fracas?”

Caroline and Cassidy refused to meet their mother’s eye, but Charlie, held her stare before nodding. “Caro was defending Azza and then, then when _his_ -” He looked at the boy with narrowed eyes. “…friends tried to, to…” He swallowed. “Cass and I couldn’t sit back and do nothing. We had had to; he’s a racist piece of shit, just like his mama.” The boy then turned his accusing gaze unto Cecile.

The room had chilled towards the Montgomery’s that much was clear.

Miranda ran her fingers through his hair, before gesturing for the others to come closer. “I know you are angry and upset, but there will always be such vile people out in the world, just waiting to tear you all down, spewing words of hate.” She said lowly as she touched Azza’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “But you shouldn’t allow them to tear you down, to make you feel inferior. You fight them, with your words and your actions, but never with your fists, it makes you no better than they are. Hmm? You rise above it and you make sure they know that you are better than they will ever be because you heart isn’t filled with hate.” They all nodded solemnly as they listened to the editor speak. Around them, the guest murmured in agreement, nodding at the editor’s sage advice. 

Miranda then turned to the woman. “How vile and disgusting you are. If you had only insulted me, I might have let it slide, after all, an idiot can’t always control themselves, but…” Her voice no longer had the warmth it had when she was speaking to the children. The woman sputtered. “…you and that boy of yours turned your tongue against mine, and I’ll not allow that.” She neared the woman, her eyes sharp and unforgiving. “I’ve heard that you want to go into fashion?” She scoffed. “At first, I was going to let it be, allow you to embarrass yourself all on your own, but now? Now you’ve made it personal. You’re done Cecile, consider that dream dead and if I ever see you again,” Her voice was low and biting. “I will not be so forgiving.”

“You bitch! You-you can’t do that.”

“Please Cecile, reach deep into your arsenal and find another weapon, because _‘bitch’_ is becoming quiet tiresome.”

“You-You…” She screamed as she reached for Miranda.

Miranda didn’t even flinch as the other woman’s hand swung towards her and she wasn’t even surprised when the hand stilled midair, which should have in turn surprised her. The fact that she knew, even on a subconscious level that Andrea wouldn’t have allowed anything to happen to her, deeply unsettled her.

Andrea stood to her side, angling her body slightly in front of Miranda’s, her hand gripping Cecile’s tightly. “She is a better person than I, because I…” She inhaled deeply, her eyes closed as she tried calming her rage. When she opened her eyes she continued, but they were still blazing and fierce. “…I am not so forgiving.” The low, barely controlled anger in her voice caused the woman to flinch. “If you touch her, I’ll burn this whole place to the ground.” She referred to the woman’s gaudy mansion. “If you so much as look at _my_ family again, I’ll make sure you’re inside when I do it. Have I achieved clarity?” She threw the woman’s hand away from her. “Know this, I never make threats, only promises and I always, _always_ keep my promises. Do not test us; you can’t even begin to comprehend the gravity of what you’ve just done. That boy,” She pointed to Azza. “ _My son_ , is Azari Sachs, future Duke of Milan and Bari, Lord of Pesaro, Marquess of Caravaggio, Count of Cotignola, Lord of Castell'Arquato and even if her were a regular boy he would still have more class and pedigree in his little finger than your entire bloodline.”

The woman blanched as the enormity of her actions fell on her, behind her, her son whimpered, his friends skulking away to avoid the aftermath, leaving him cowering behind his mother. Andy was on a roll as she steamed right through the woman. “And Miranda Priestly, she is more woman than you’ll ever be. She has more class, more sophistication than you could ever dream of; you are _nothing_ in comparison to her. That is why you try beating her down, to make yourself feel bigger, more important, but you never could, could you?” She didn’t wait for the woman to answer. “If I ever, ever, hear you say her name with anything but the respect it deserves, I will take it as a personal slight against my House and the retribution will be swift and merciless.”

She turned from the woman and faced Miranda. “I grow tired of this place and if we stay any longer I just might go against everything you just told the children and hit that vile woman, so let’s go.” She reached for Miranda’s hand, and then motioned to the children to follow.

As Azza followed, he turned and stuck out his tongue at the woman and her son before running to grab Caroline’s hand. As the Group left, so did the other guests, scoffing and ignoring the two Montgomerys as they filed out.

They’d ruined the woman and her name and they’d barely been there two hours.

_____________________

The ride home had been silent, they were all lost in their own thoughts, but when Andy pulled into the drive way and the lot filed out, Caroline and Cassidy stood in front of their mother. They were too anxious; they needed to get their punishment now instead of waiting until they were a ball of nerves.

Miranda eyed her girls curiously, waiting for them to speak.

“We um, we want to know-” Cassidy began.

“What’s our punishment?” Caroline finished.

Miranda’s brows rose. The girls were willingly seeking out a punishment.

“Whatever you give them, I will take also.” Charles stood beside Caroline, his jaw set. Azza not a hundred percent sure what was happening decided he was joining in anyways. He ran to his brother and held his hand before eyeing Miranda warily.

“I think we should let them off the hook this time Priestly.” Andy leaned against the vehicle, eyeing the little group who stood united. They reminded her so much of her, Serena and Cristobal, it brought a smile to her face. “They were defending each other, plus I’d be a hypocrite considering how much fights I got into at their age.” She finished with a cheeky grin.

The released a collective sigh in relief.

Miranda eyed her in exasperation. “I’m not in the least surprised that a young Andrea was just as much trouble.”

Andy shrugged before turning to the children with a wink. “You’re all off the hook this time, next time, don’t get caught.” She yelped as Miranda smacked her upside the head.

“Don’t tell them that!”

Andy rubbed the spot before leaning down to whisper in Miranda’s ear. “My safe word is Apples remember.”

Miranda eyed her unimpressed, but her cheeks still bloomed pink.

“Children, go clean up and change.”

“Could we play video games after?” Charlie asked before they went inside.

“Just for a little, it’s been an exhausting day.” Miranda watched the boy’s face split in a wide smile before he wrapped her in a crushing hug then ran after the twins and Azza who were already inside.

After they all showered, the all found themselves lounging in the screening room. Andy eyed Miranda a pleased look on her face.

“What?” Miranda said with mild irritation when Andy continued staring without saying anything.

“Nothing, it’s just…” She trailed off.

“Just what?”

“It looks good on you.” She gestured to Miranda sweatshirt.

When Miranda looked down, she saw the word ‘OXFORD’ plastered across the chest.

“I like seeing you in my things.” Andy wasn’t lying. The moment Miranda had descended the stairs, and she saw what the other woman was wearing her, her heart stopped, and a warmness ran through her body. She felt excited, turned on and most importantly, possessive.

“Oh.” Miranda hadn’t even realized. The moment she had touched it and tugged it on, she’d felt wonderful, the scent of it had intoxicated her. She only now realized why. It smelled of Andrea. “The housekeeper must have mixed it with mine when he was unpacking. I’ll go take it off-”

“No!” Andy quickly reigned herself in. “I mean, there is no need, as I said, it look, it looks good on you.” She smiled and her eyes, god her eyes were so tender and open, Miranda could barely tear hers away.

The moment between them was becoming too much for her to bear so she turned her head and cleared her throat. “Good, because it's mine now.” She tried lightening the mood.

“Is that so?” Andy decided to play along.

“Mhmm, I’ve claimed it. Good luck trying to get me out of it now.”

“Oh?” Andy neared her, tugging gently at the lace gangling from the front. “Challenge accepted.” She murmured as their breaths mingled. She saw Miranda’s eyes darken and knew this was her moment to-

“Mum!” Was yelled form the screening room, causing the two to jump apart as if burned. Andy had forgotten that she’d promised her little troublemakers to play a game or two with them. She sighed in frustration as Miranda used the distraction to slip from her arms. _‘This was going to be a long few days.’_ She thought as she headed into the room.

Andy was fixated on a game the children had shown her and now she was just as hooked as they were. They took turns with the consul, shouting at the screen as though it would change the outcome or the actions of their characters. When Miranda passed in front of the screen, she was met with collective yells of “Mom!” Priestly!” and “Fairy Queen!” as she was shooed out of the way, Andy had nearly broken her neck as she stretched off the couch to see around her. She had hit the ground with a yelp, but her fingers hadn’t stopped jamming at the controls.

Miranda rolled her eyes as she settled in a corner of the lounge chairs with a book. She was in a house full of children that was the only explanation. After a few games, Azza had made himself a little nest of pillows them proceeded to dive right into his beauty sleep. Then as the night dwindled on, she found herself pulling a thick blanket over Caroline and Andy.

Caroline had taken to using Andy as a pillow and the woman sprawled out on her back with a pillow under her head, dead to the world, didn’t seem to mind. She had one arm wrapped protectively around Caroline’s shoulder. Charles and Cassidy were huddled a few meters away, sprawled out on one another in way that resembled a pretzel, yet the two seemed comfortable and content snuggled under their blankets.

She moved to them, pressing a kiss to their foreheads, then to Azza’s after she made sure the baby was okay. Looking over, she realized Andrea had kicked off her sheet, so she moved back and fixed it, making sure that the troublemaker was secure; she then went and pressed a kiss to Caroline’s cheek. She stood for a minute, watching the gentle rise and fall of Andrea’s chest, the low calming sound of her breathing, she then without thought or realization, leaned forward and gently pressing her lips to Andrea’s cheek. It was barely there brushing of lips but Miranda felt a tingle race through her. As she lifted her head to move away, she was met with the smoldering amber eyes, they were unreadable and as Miranda hastened to move, flushing in embarrassment at being caught doing something so ridiculous, a hand gripping the front of her sweater stopped her.

“Wha-” She began, but was silenced as Andrea rose up slightly and tugged her forward. Crashing her lips to hers. Andy’ mouth moved gently and softly against hers, feathering over her lips like a silent prayer. Miranda’s breath caught as Andy nipped at her bottom lip then sucked. Miranda made a tiny whimper that turned Andy’s knees to jelly, luckily, she was laying down or she wouldn’t have been able to stand after that. Andy slowly released the other woman’s lip then placed small, soft kisses along her jaw before trailing up and devouring her mouth once more.

Just as quickly as it began, it ended. Miranda braced her hands against Andy’s chest, pushing her back slightly. “We can’t.” Her voice was hoarse.

Andy sighed in frustration, but she knew the other woman was right. With a nod, she fell back unto the pillows. “Good night Priestly.” Her voice sounded like pure wanton need.

Miranda nodded as rose.

“Will you dream of me?” Andy’s voice was low and lacked the regular smugness that always seemed to coat her words. Her eyes were once again unreadable, but her voice, her voice was so sincere.

Miranda looked down at her with equally unreadable, somewhat guarded eyes. Without saying a word, she turned and walked away, disappearing into the darkness of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. – B.S.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. Here’s another chapter, stay safe and I hope you enjoy. – B.S.
> 
> P.S.- A shout out to my new Beta WeiLan25, it's been great so far. Kudos to you.

As Emily trotted down the pavement across from Central Park, she felt lost, she felt angry. At this point, she felt as though that summer so long ago was nothing but a figment of her imagination. How could Gizelle, no,  _ Serena _ —  she has to remind herself, how could someone who looked at her with such tender, heartfelt eyes now look at her with barely concealed disgust, mingled with hate? 

Despite her own reservations, she had decided to be the bigger person, to not allow herself to lose to the anger that bubbled within her when she first realized who the woman truly was. Who would blame her really? I mean who does that? Who pretends for almost three months to be someone else? Lie to everyone around them? For what? Was it all a lie?

She was desperate to know what the blonde’s motives were, and that was why she had attempted to calm her anger and be the bigger person. She needed answers and so maybe she did mess up a little, but they were BOTH in the wrong, so the least the idiot could do is to hear her out. She should feel lucky that Emily was even considering forgiving her!

But nooooo! She looked at her with cold narrowed eyes and that air of superiority that made Emily bristle whenever they saw each other, and she is ENGLISH for crying out loud!

As Emily’s thoughts continued to spiral, her anger rose and rose. Her memories drifted to the time she’d allowed herself to fall for the stupid Dutch woman.

___________________

_ Emily watched the blonde across the table, sipping her tea so elegantly as she smiled with her other classmates. She looked like a queen, a queen who was benevolent, offering a few moments of her attention to her lessers. The thought brought a smile to the redhead’s lips and a low laugh escaped her. A laugh that drew the attention of the blonde away from the boy who was chatting his little heart out in a vain attempt to fully capture the gorgeous woman’s attention. _

_ Gizelle arched her brow as she brought the cup to her lips, before quickly glancing at the boy then back to Emily.  _ _ The look on her face — as if the blonde screaming ‘Are you hearing this?’—drew another laugh out of the Brit. _ _ Serena felt a rush of pride at having been the cause of Emily’s laugh and when the girl looked at her once more, she gave her a saucy wink that caused the girl to almost choke on her straw. _

_ Emily narrowed her eyes after her back was beaten within an inch of its life by their chaperone who took it upon herself to ‘save’ her life. The unrepentant Gizelle only shot her an amused grin, her eyes twinkled as she offered her a sip from her cup.  _

_ Unable to resist the deep dimples and heart stopping smile, she ruefully accepted the other girl’s peace offering. As she sipped, her thoughts drifted to the last few weeks, how Gizelle had been such a staple that the thought of not having her around every day, of them not being friends for whatever reason, made her heart lurch and her stomach bottom out. She didn’t even want to think about that. She would miss those mesmerizing eyes, she’d desperately want to hear her airy laugh or her low sultry chuckle. She’d miss the way her lips curved when she tried withholding a laugh or full smile, how her lips would redden when she bit them in concentration, how Emily would always get the desire to kiss away the slight bruise or run her hands through her amazing hair. Why did she always smell so good, so mouthwateringly good? _

_ Emily’s eyes widened as understanding began to dawn. The looks, the stares, the reason she would always search for blonde’s eyes first whenever she entered a room, or closed her books and drew up the sheets around her before pressing a kiss to her forehead, the reason why even now as the boy pest at Gizelle’s ear, she felt her blood boil in irritation and, and…jealousy? _

_ She shot from the chair as though it were on fire, sending it clanging to the ground behind her. She drew the stares of everyone from the café, specifically; Gizelle, who leaned towards the table, a questioning frown on her face. Emily clenched her fist, she had no desire to answer the question of ‘Are you okay?’ she was sure would sprout from the blonde’s mouth. _

_ In an instant she is off, running through the semi-crowded room. She needed air, she felt the room closing in around her, but called it a sixth sense, but she felt Gizelle behind her, chasing her through the busy streets. _

_ “Em! Wait!”  _

_ Strong hands pulled her by the neck of her shirt, drawing her up short. She was hyperventilating, she was outside yet it felt like everything was closing in. ‘Wasn’t she too young for a heart attack?’ she thought as Gizelle turned her, palming her face as she searched her eyes. _

_ “What has gotten into you?” Her frown was back. Even after the relatively long run, she didn’t look remotely flustered or tired and for some reason that irritated Emily. Why did she have to be so damn perfect! _

_ “I-I…” The words refused to come and Emily mentally scoffed at her own cowardice. _

_ “Take your time amada.” She soothed, running her hands up and down Emily’s. _

_ “I-I-” She didn’t know what possessed her to say the next words. “I need your help.” _

_ “Okaaay…” Gizelle’s frown deepened. “What do you need?” _

_ “I want you to, to help me with this.” She gestured to herself. _

_ “I- what? I don’t understand.” _

_ “I have a-a…crush…” Her face matched the colour of her hair. ‘god she was mortified.’  _

_ “Crush?” Gizelle stepped back a bit as she looked down at the Brit. “Crush? Explain?” _

_ “I-I like someone.” _

_ “Oh? Oh!” For some reason Gizelle looked sick.  _

_ “Are you okay?” She pressed the back of her hand against her forehead, the girl looked as though she were about to throw up.  _

_ “I’m, I’m fine.” She pulled down the red head’s hand. _

_ “You sur-” _

_ “Tell me about this…crush.” She grimaced, saying the word as though it were a curse or some vile thing. _

_ “It’s someone in our group.” _

_ There was no way she was telling the girl who bordered on a supermodel with the brain of a genius that she was crushing on her. She was mortified enough thank you very much, but maybe... maybe she could work herself up to it. Could get the other woman to transform her into her ideal person, someone she could see herself with. She looked down at herself, tugging at the oversized sweatshirt and slightly worn sneakers. _

_ She saw the way Serena dressed, how she carried herself. She would never be interested in a girl who just picked the first thing she saw in her closet or out the hamper, but maybe if she got a makeover, yes that’s it, a makeover, then she would have a better chance at convincing the girl that they could be amazing together. If only she had looked up, she would have seen pained eyes staring down at her. She would have seen a tense jaw and stiff shoulders _

_ “And what do you need from me?” _

_ “I want you to turn me into, into you.” _

_ “What?” _

_ “My hair, my clothes, everything…can you help me change it?” _

_ Gizelle’s eyes narrowed. “If you are changing who you are for some idiot boy...” Her accent thickened with her anger, Emily found it incredibly sexy as she watched the girl rant. “…then maybe he isn’t worth your time.” She snapped. _

_ Serena ran through the faces of all the boys in their group. Trying to decipher which one was currently driving her to homicide. Was it that Thomas boy? Or maybe Ignacio, he was handsome enough. As she thought, her head snapped up in realization. It was that Giovanni boy! She thought of all the times he would speak to her, she would catch Emily looking at them with narrowed eyes and she would get snappy. At first, she had convinced herself that maybe it was because of- she shook those thoughts from her mind now. She had wanted Giovanni not… _

_ ‘Will you help me?” _

_ “Nothing about you needs to change.” She scoffed. _

_ “I want to do this Gizelle, will you help me or not?” She knew that she was bordering whining, but her entire plan hinged on Gizelle helping her so that she could in turn woo-- well, Gizelle.  _

_ Serena tried her best not to look at the big doe eyes that were shooting up at her, or the little pout that pulled at the Brits lips. She was shooting her a look that would make Serena hand over the universe if she could. _

_ “Fine.” She gritted. “But just the clothes, nothing else.” She sighed then gently poked the girl. “They really are horrible, we’ll have much to do.” _

_ “Hey!” Emily yelled, yes she wanted to change her wardrobe but that didn’t mean she wasn’t still insulted. _

_ Gizelle threw her head back and laughed before wrapping her arm around the girl’s shoulder. “Easy amada, I still think they’re cute.” _

______________________

Emily gritted her teeth, this needed to end now, it was getting borderline ridiculous. She had tried for days to corner the woman into talking to her, but each time she slipped through her fingers, one minute she was in sight and the next she had vanished into thin air. 

She pulled out her phone, glad that it was a Sunday and Miranda had decided on an impromptu Hampton trip, she didn’t have to worry about work. Quickly, she dialed Nigel’s number, praying that the man would pick up, it was barely after seven after all and she knew he had a date yesterday.

After the third try, a gruff voice grumbled over the line.

“Somebody better be dead or dying.”

“I need your help.”

“Em?” Nigel pulled the phone from his ear to look at the caller ID and the time. “Wha-”

“Help, yours, I need it.”

Nigel rubbed at his eyes before sighing, rising from the warm comforting brace of his Spaniard who grumbled and reached for him. He smiled, brushing a stubborn lock from Cristi’s forehead.

“Nigel! Are you listening!?”

“Yes, yes, go on.”

“I need you to ask your boyfriend where Serena is.”

Nigel flushed. “He’s not my- wait the tall gorgeous blonde? Why?”

“I need to talk to her.” Was her only reply.

“Oh? I don’t know if-”

“Nigel?” Cristi’s muffled voice called from his pillow.

“Sorry, sorry.” He whispered to the younger man as he rose to leave the bed.

“No, no.” Cristi grabbed at his hand, preventing him from leaving. “It’s fine.” He yawned before plopping over unto his back and destroying all of Nigel’s cognitive thoughts.

“Nigel!” Emily yelled.

“Right, right.” He shook his head. “Right. Emily wants to know where your friend Serena is.”

This rose Cristi fully from his haze and he sat up with a frown. “Why?” His eyes narrowed suspiciously. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Nigel, but he was always protective of his girls.

Nigel shrugged at him before speaking into the phone. “Why?”

Cristi watched as Nigel nodded before looking back at him. “She said they have history.”

“History?” Now Cristi was truly suspicious. He knew Serena since before they could creep. If Serena had history with the red head, surely he would’ve known about it. His frown deepened, if he really thought about it, over the last few years Serena had developed an aversion to red heads, she’d always said they weren’t her type, but he and Andy had caught her on more than one occasions eyeing red haired women wistfully before she could catch herself. ‘Had the woman hurt his bella?’

“Give me the phone.” He called out to Nigel. 

After a few seconds, the older man pulled the phone from his ear and looked at the screen in confusion. “She hung up.”

As Emily tried to get Nigel’s attention and convince him to help her, something across the street caught her attention. Maybe it was fate, or just a plain old coincidence, but the Brit turned just in time to see the blonde in question, dressed in a sports bra and short compression shorts jogging down the street. She drew the eyes of everyone around her, including one Emily Charlton who watched as she came to a stop next to the park bench. She then lifted her leg, braced it on the top of the bench then leaned over, stretching out the stiffness. 

She hung up the phone with a click as her feet carried her across the street, something like a cosmic string pulled her towards the other woman.

“Serena.” She called when she was barely a hair's breadth away.

Serena stiffened, her shoulders tensed as she rose from her position. 

“Don’t run.” Emily gritted as the woman looked as though she was about to shoot off. “I never took you for a coward.” 

Serena’s eyes narrowed as she tensed once more. 

“I never realized you were this irritating.” She turned to face the woman who met her eyes unflinchingly.

“Some call it tenacity.”

“Clearly they’ve never met you.” She replied with an overly sweet smile.

The red head scoffed. “Will you, just for a single moment, behave like you’re not a child? Is that too much to ask?”

“Yes.” She snapped. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“Well I have a bloody lot to say to you, so shut up and listen!” She was quickly losing her patience. “I tried to be the bigger person, to not be angry but have you forgotten that you lied to me!? Have you forgotten that you tricked me into thinking you were someone else for almost three months!?”

Serena winced, but her jaw tensed.

“You bloody arsehole! I’ve given you the benefit of the doubt and I’ve tried to-to work this out because I thought we could, could-”

“What?! Live happily ever after?! Some fucking shot like that?!”

Emily’s eyes narrowed but she felt sick. “We could at least be civil.”

Serena eyed her up and down, taking in the way she was beautifully dressed. She was a far cry from the look she sported in university. Even as the other woman’s nostrils flared, Serena’s mind was drawn to a time when she would have teased her for it and done something silly to make her laugh again. 

She remembered how she’d taken her to store after store, boutique after boutique, in a world wind of colours and textures, they’d experiment with various styles until they’d found the perfect one for Emily, the one that made her eyes glistened as she stared at herself in the mirror. Then it was to the salon, where they’d both agreed that her unique shade of red wouldn’t be tampered with.

Then the moment of truth came.

_______________

_ The group had decided to go to a club to commemorate the last few days of their trip. The plan was to meet in the lobby and have drinks before leaving in a chartered bus. Emily was nervous about the ‘debut’ of her new look. Even though Gizelle had been the one who spearheaded the transformation, the Brit was still apprehensive whether it would work to win over the blonde. Gizelle had left their room, in a drop dead gorgeous dress before Emily had barely finished her shower. _

_As she entered the room, a hush silence fell as everyone wondered who the newcomer was. Gizelle rose to her feet, forgetting everyone around her, her eyes riveted to Emily._ _Giovanni —who had been in her ear from they sat down —voice trailed off._

_ “You look beautiful…” She whispered breathlessly as Emily passed her. The Brit shot her a wink even as her cheeks reddened.  _

_ She then watched as the boy on multiple occasions invaded the blonde’s personal space much to her chagrin. Everyone ooo’d and ahhh’d at Emily as she sat down. Although she accepted it with a pleased and appreciative smile, her eyes were still locked and narrowed on the blonde and the boy.  _

_ Serena had grown increasingly uncomfortable around Giovanni after finding out he was the object of affection of the woman who had smitten her. Now she tended to avoid being around him for any extended period of time. He just wouldn’t quit.  _

_ As they drank and laughed, Serena noticed that Emily was eyeing her strangely. She inched away from the boy and moved closer to her Brit who again eyed her in annoyance. She was trying, she was really trying to discourage him, but now Emily too was beginning to annoy her. _

_ After what seemed like the tenth eye roll, she slammed her glass onto the counter, grabbed Emily’s hand and pulled her across the lobby into a secluded passage. As they turned the corner, Emily pulled her hand free and snapped. _

_ “What is your problem?!” _

_ “What is your problem?!” Gizelle snapped. “You’ve been a right arse all night!” _

_ She sniffed. “I don’t know what you mean.” _

_ “Oh? So your snide comments? Eye rolls whenever I speak to you? That wasn’t you being and arse?!” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I understand that you’re jealous, but it’s not like I’m leading him on or anythi-” _

_ “Leading him- what are you talking about?!” _

_ “Isn’t that why you’re behaving like a prat, because you’re jealous that Giovanni likes me?” _

_ Emily blinked, stunned at the foolishness she was hearing. She thought the blonde was a genius. “Are you- What!? Jealous of you?!” _

_ “Yes!” _

_ “Jealous of you!? I was jealous of him!” _

_ “I kno- what?!” _

_ “You’re an idiot! I was jealous him, I was jealous of the fact that he could, could hold your hand, and, and touch you and kiss and that he was your type-” _

_ “My type?” Serena was stunned. _

_ “Stop repeating what I say!”  _

_ “I’m trying to understand what’s happening?!”  _

_ “What’s happening is that I did all this for you!” She gestured to herself. “So that I could fit in with you, so that I could have your attention instead of fucking Giovanni and I feel like you don’t even care.” _

_ “For me?” She whispered to herself, and then winced when Emily narrowed her eyes at her. “I don’t know what’s happening…” _

_ “What’s happening is that it was you, you’re my crush Gizelle. This was,” She sighed dejectedly. “This was for you, I got dressed up for you.” _

_ “I-I…” Serena trailed off, unable to find the words that could express the riot of emotions that were consuming her. ‘It was for her? She spent days doing that ridiculous makeover so that the girl who she was in love with could impress…her?’ She felt the laughter bubble and there was little she could do to stop it. Within moments, she threw her head back and laughed as tears ran down her face. ‘Was this what happiness felt like?’ _

_ Emily watched the blonde and felt her face burning with the sting of her embarrassment. Of course she would laugh, she couldn’t believe she thought that it would work. She shook her head and took a deep breath, setting her shoulders. She wouldn’t allow the girl to see her embarrassed and pathetic, she would walk away with her head held high and her pride in check and then later, in the dead of night when everyone was asleep, she would find a quiet corner and cry her eyes out. _

_ She nodded to herself resolutely before moving to pass the other girl. As she neared her, the blonde shot out a hand and caught the red head before she could walk away. The red head pulled at her hand in an attempt to wrench herself free. _

_ “I love you.” She whispered a small smile tilted her lips. _

_ Emily stilled, a sort of shocked calmness ran through her body. A coldness followed the greatest warmth she’d ever experienced. _

_ “What?” Her voice was low and disbelief coated her words. _

_ “I love you.” She looked away pensively. “I think I always have.” She turned back to her with a blinding smile. “Do you know how far you’ve driven me up the wall these last few days hmm? When I thought you gave your affections to someone else.” She neared the girl, pulling her closer as she cupped her cheek with one hand. “I never want to feel that way again.” She brushed her lips against her cheek. _

_ Emily fisted the bust of Gizelle’s dress. “You-you-why didn’t you tell me…before?” _

_ “I thought you’d have figured it out on your own. Didn’t you notice hmm? How much you mean to me?” Gizelle whispered against her lips. _

_ “Kiss me.” Emily murmured back, feeling as though she were floating and only Gizelle’s lips could ground her back to earth. _

_ Serena’s breath hitched. “With pleasure.”  _

  
  


_________________

“Let’s just forget anything ever happened and leave it at that.” 

Serena turned to continue her jog, but Emily was sick and tired of the back and forth. She moved quickly and grabbed unto the girl before she sprinted away.

“No, we’re doing this now.” She hissed in her ear.

“Unhand me.” Serena hissed back.

“Not until you listen to what I have to say!”

“I don’t want to hear it!”

“Why are you being such a bitch!?”

“You left me!” Serena wrenched herself from Emily’s grip. “I told you I loved you, we, we made love and then you left me in the middle of the fucking night like I was some cheap fuck!” Anger burned off Serena and her eyes blazed. “No phone call, no goodbye, not even a fucking note, nothing! You left and I never heard from you again and like a fucking idiot I waited. I waited in that half dead dingy motel for almost a fucking month, hoping that you would come back, hoping that maybe I could fix whatever I did that made you, made you leave me. But you never came back.” There was a vulnerability in her voice that made Emily want to reach out and hold her, to hold her and tell her that everything would be okay.

“Serena I-” Tears welled in Emily’s eyes, she had been a fucking idiot. Look what she had done.

“No, I was a mess. I spent years trying to get over you. Please don’t pull me back down that hole again. I don’t think I could...could survive it this time.” Serena gave her one last look. “Please.” She murmured then turned and ran.

Emily watched her go then ran to the nearest trash before throwing up her lunch. She’d never felt so sick, she’d never felt so low. She just needed to explain herself, make Serena see and then maybe, maybe they could at least be friends again, because one thing was for certain, she needed the blonde in her life and  she was willing to accept whatever capacity the blonde allowed her to be. She just needed her there, in her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. – B.S.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. Here’s another chapter, stay safe and I hope you enjoy. – B.S.

Andy was jarred from her sleep by the pain of an elbow being jammed into her stomach. She then tried finding her bearings as she blinked the bleariness from her eyes, slowly the events of last night came trickling back and with it, her frustration returned. As she maneuvered herself out of the tight grip of the little red head, careful not to wake her, she checked to make sure the four were comfortably sleeping before making her way out of the room.

She assumed Miranda had retired to her room after their _‘moment’_ last night, because she was nowhere to be found. She was still tired and desperately wanted sleep, but her whirling mind made it apparent that attempting to reclaim her dreams would be a futile attempt. She stilled at the doorway, the images of her dreams flashed before her eyes. She had told the older woman to dream of her but her own subconscious decided to take the request for itself.

She had dreamed of strange, far-fetched things. Things that involved a certain silver haired editor, the fact that they weren’t even remotely sexual was what gave Andy pause. If it were sexual, that, she would’ve understood, that she would’ve welcomed, after all the woman had been slowly getting under her skin from the second they met.

She knew the sex — as amazing, mind blowing as it was, and would continue to be — was inevitable. The pause however came from the sheer domesticity of her dreams, the intimacy she and dream Miranda shared.

It was such simple ridiculous things, like waking up wrapped in each other’s arm, or making dinner with their children, then the dream would cut to Miranda dressed sinfully accompanying her to some Gala or the other, completely lost in each other as they swayed to some incomprehensible background music. She would whisper something to the other woman that would leave her trying her best not to laugh out loud. Instead, she would shoot Andy one of those amused half smiles she rarely used apart from with the children, then she’d arch her brow and Andy would be left breathless as she pulled her closer. 

Her blue eyes would be warm and tender and Andy would feel like she had the greatest gift in the world that one Miranda Priestly was looking at her as though she hung the moon and stars and she knew, she knew that the same look was reflected in her eyes.

She’d had never thought to imagine such things, but the absurdity of it, the realness of it left her waking with a longing and yearning that made her ache. She wanted, no,  _ needed _ it, her hands buzzed with the desire to touch the other woman, even if it was something as simple as holding her hand, or brushing that stubborn lock from her eye. 

The need was as real as though it was required for her every breath. She dreamed of reaching out and touching Miranda’s cheek, at first the woman would stiffen, but then her eyes would slowly begin to close and she would turn her face into Andy’s palm, seeking and drawing comfort from the woman who would give her any and everything.

Andy’s chest would tighten as her heart pattered erratically. Then as the peaceful yet charged silence descended around them, she would slowly rub her thumb against Miranda’s cheek, who would then sigh in contentment, a low hum leaving her lips. She would then move forward, pressing her forehead against the editor’s and would feel a peace that was foreign to her yet at the same time felt like, like…home.

When she initially woke and her mind was still trying to separate fiction from reality, she had lost herself in the feeling before the startling realization that it was all a figment of her imagination came. She’d never felt so depressed, but all the emotions, all the feelings were too much for Andy. She had no idea exactly what was happening to her and the thought made her uncomfortable and feel at odds with herself.

So she did what she does best, she buried it deep within the recesses of her mind and refused to contemplate them any longer. So far, the only thing it had brought her was ache she did not know how to fix and a desire she wasn’t sure how to sate. The sound of her stomach signaling its displeasure at being left high and dry drew her attention. She needed to make breakfast, this was a problem she had the tools and skills to fix and so she focused on that.

It was still the early hours; dawn had barely broken the horizon, so the house was almost eerily still. There was a sort of reverence about the early hours and dawn, a calm quietness that couldn’t be found anywhere else. It made thinking easier which was why it was always Andy’s favorite time of the day…except for today. She didn’t want to think, she didn’t want her mind to stray.

She wandered to the kitchen, a kitchen that was every chef’s wet dream. Beautiful and luxurious barely came close to the large expanse of granite, marble and stainless steel high tech appliances. She moved to the well-stocked fridge and quickly took out all the ingredients she would need for French toast and egg white omelets. So lost in thought she was that she barely heard Miranda moving through the house. What brought her up though was the shift in the air as the woman stood by the doorway, watching the aristocrat move with effortless ease across the kitchen.

“Are you planning on helping me, or will you just stand there lurking like a creep?”

Miranda could hear the smirk in the woman’s voice and rolled her eyes as she pushed herself off the banister she was leaning on.

“I was frozen in shock that you knew how to crack and egg much less cook it.”

“I’ll have you know that I have many talents you don’t know about, Miranda Priestly.” Andy laughed lowly before shooting the woman a very suggestive wink.

“Of that I have no doubt.” Miranda whispered to herself as the woman flipped what seemed to be French toast. “Do you need any help?” She found herself asking.

Andy hummed. “I’m almost done, but if you could do the coffee that would be great.”

Miranda entered the room, still in Andy’s now wrinkled jumper, her face and her feet were bare, her hair was sloppy and fell unruly unto her forehead and as Andy eyed her pensively, she thought she never looked more beautiful. Miranda stiffened under Andy scrutinizing stare, waiting for some quip about her appearance, but as she readied herself to snap at the other woman, a soft smile stole over her face and her eyes lightened.

“You’re shameless.”

“What?” Miranda was confused as the amusement danced in brown eyes.

“Flaunting your stolen goods in my face.” She tsked. “No remorse for your criminal ways.”

Miranda looked down, realizing what the woman was talking about, she laughed lowly. “It does look better on me.” She sniffed.

“I won’t disagree with you on that.” Andy grinned as she plated the food.

Andy then pushed two plates towards Miranda, who took them up and deposited them on the dining room table. Maybe it was the smell of the food, or the low hum of their parents’ voice, but within moments after setting the table, four groggy, barely awake children shuffled into the room with low grunts and mutterings.

“They live!” Andy teased, shuffling Charlie’s hair as she passed him.

Charles patted his mother’s hand in greeting then plopped himself on the dining chair. His mind much like the other three was only partly operational. They hadn’t worked up to words as yet.

As they dug into their food, demolishing the contents of the plate. Miranda sipped her coffee, watching in amusement as they hardly took a moment to breathe.

“What do you all want to do today hmm?” She murmured to them. “We’ll be leaving tomorrow so make it good.” She teased.

“Can we go to the beach?” Cassidy asked before sipping her orange juice.

“Beach!” Azza yelled, syrup dripping to his chin. Miranda leaned forward with a napkin to wipe at the mess.

“Manners Azari.” She chided softly, but the boy only shot her a wide mischievous grin, much like his Mama.

“Sowy.” He widened his soulful brown eyes, knowing within moments all would be forgiven.

Miranda watched him in amused exasperation before tapping his nose gently and returning to her own food.

“What do the rest of you say?” Andy asked after swallowing a bite.

Caroline and Charles only grunted in agreement, clearly not morning people.

_________________

Miranda had packed a picnic basket, which the chef on call had prepared, she now held it as Andy pulled the ice, and juice filled igloo behind them. In front, Charlie, Cass and Caro trudged through the sands with their towels and surfboards with little Azza pulling his floaties and toys.

Andy had quickly whisked the group away to a massive cabana, spreading their blanket across the inflatable mattress underneath, they would first have a picnic under the shade then they would tackle the waves. Miranda had no intention of attempting to go on a surfboard, instead she was content to sit and relax under the sun, get a light tan and finally finish the book she had been putting off for the last few months.

The chef had prepared a selection of delicious treats of chicken, salad, fruits and homemade potato chips.

“I’m stuffed.” Caroline flipped unto her back and released a dramatic breath.

“Don’t I know it.” Cassidy grunted in agreement next to her sister.

“Fim?!” Azza yelled as Charlie wiped his hands and mouth. “Fim Mama?!”

“Alright, alright wee man.” She swung him up in the air and caught him as he came down giggling.

“Careful Andrea, you’ll make him sick.” Miranda’s heart seized when the boy had gone squealing in the air.

“Nah, he’s fine see?” She held him under his arms as she offered him to Miranda.

“Fairy queen look! I fwy!” His excitement brought a smile to Miranda’s face.

“Yes I can see that Azari. Come,” She took him from his Mother. “Let’s get some sunblock on you all before you go into the water.”

There was a collective groan that was silenced by the laser eyes Miranda shot at them. They knew from that look Miranda was serious.

“Fine Mom, just hurry up please, we’re missing the good waves.” Caroline groaned out.

“I’ll be quick.”

After a while, Miranda watched as Charlie played with Azza, chasing the giggling baby through the shallows while Andrea, Caroline and Cassidy paddled out. She wasn’t in the least bit worried, she trusted Andrea to keep her children safe and bring them back in one piece. There was no doubt of that. She watched as Andrea, clad in the shortest shorts she had ever seen and a wet top that left her stomach bare, cheered Cassidy on as the girl maneuvered across the water. She was hypnotized by the sheer beauty and damn near sinful body that the woman flaunted with ease.

When Cassidy, Charles and Caroline seemed finished with the waves and decided to play with Azza in the sand, Andy trekked back to Miranda, squeezing the water from her hair and flashing what remained on the editor. Miranda yelped and when the cold water drizzled over her, quickly she grabbed a towel and patted herself dry as Andrea laughed at her sour expression. She was not amused.

“ Honestly Andrea, you are worse than the children. ”

“Of course.” She answered back cheekily.

Miranda huffed before scooting back to lean against the post then returned to her book. Andy eyed the woman who was consumed by the pages she was scouring, and then an idea struck her. She pushed the basket to one side, then without hesitation she stretched out on the blanket covered mattress with her head in a very surprised Miranda’s lap.

“What are you doing?”

“I thought it was obvious, I’m laying down.”

“I can see that.” She gritted. “But why is your head on my lap?”

“Because it looked comfortable and was calling to me. It yelled ‘Andy, Andy I want you!’” She said with a smug smile. “Who was I to deny?”

Miranda looked at her incredulously before using her book to smack the girl on the forehead. She yelped, rubbing the spot as Miranda rolled her eyes. “Idiot.” Miranda whispered. She still refused to move, instead, she reached up and brushed the stubborn lock that had fallen over Miranda’s eye.

Miranda scrunched up her nose, but didn’t say anything. Andy chuckled lowly. “That was cute.”

“What was?” She replied absently.

“That thing you do with your nose, the way your hair falls over your eye, the list goes on and on.”

“Please.” Again, she rolled her eyes.

“I mean it. It was very sexy.” She winked which earned her another smack from the book.

Andy winced. “You know, sooner or later you’ll cause an international incident with all your smacking. I have immunity you know, I could have you extradited.” She teased.

“I wish you luck with that.” Miranda hadn’t taken her eyes from the book, but no longer was she tense at the unexpected visitor on her lap, if anything, she had begun relaxing, drawing a sense of comfort from the woman who was lazing peacefully.

“You know we need to talk right?” Andy broke the silence and Miranda mentally cursed.

_ ‘So much for peace and tranquility.’ _ She thought.

“Oh? What about?” She feigned ignorance.

“Don’t do that Priestly. Don’t pretend not to know what I’m talking about.”

“Must we do this now?”

“Do you have a better time in mind?”

When the silence stretched on, Andy huffed.

“I thought so.”

“We don’t need to talk about anything.”

“You know we do. We need to talk about that night in your house and yesterday.”

“I don-”

“Don’t tell me you don’t know what I mean. The night we had sex Miranda and yesterday when we almost fucked each other senseless in a powder room in the middle of party. That’s what I’m talking about.”

“Fine!” She snapped even as she flushed. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Your enthusiasm is infectious.” Andy said dryly.

“Look, we clearly both have itches we need scratching.”

“Itches?”

“Yes, we are after all both consenting adults, who are... are compatible that _way_. Why do we need to make it into a thing?” She rushed out.

Andy’s brows rose. Miranda couldn’t be saying what she thought she was saying right? “What exactly are you saying?”

“Let’s just keep it as it is. We can occasionally have…sex, if the urge arises, but other than that we don’t need to make it unnecessarily complicated.”

“You want to be fuck buddies?” Andy’s voice rose a notch in incredulity.

“Must you be so crass?!” She snapped back.

“Is friends with benefits better, oh innocent one?” Andy hissed, irritated at Miranda's words and she didn’t know why.

“We are friends?” Miranda said dryly then held up her hands when Andy shot her a look that screamed  _ ‘Not now!’ _

“I don’t even-” Why was she fighting this? Clearly that all Miranda wanted from her, someone to scratch an itch. Why not just do it? Whatever ridiculous feelings had been coursing through her as of late, they’d fade with ease, there was evidently nothing here. The editor was making that abundantly clear. She had done this all the time, Miranda would be no different. “Fine, fuck buddies it is.” She gritted with a smile. A smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

Miranda noticed but chose not to comment on it.

“We need to swear one thing.”

“Oh? You have more ideas?” Andy tried her best not to sound annoyed.

“It would seem that between us, I’m the only one who ever has any _worth_ mentioning.” The editor sneered.

“ _ Funny. _ ”

“As I was saying," She took a deep breath before continuing. "Our children, they are so attached to each other Andrea. Look at them." She gestured to the four children rolling in the sand and water, giggling and laughing as they had the time of their lives. "No matter what may… _transpire_ between us, we’ll not let it affect them. It would break their hearts," She turned to the brunette and looked at her with piercing eyes. "And I’ll not have that. I won't.”

The fight left Andy at the mention of their babies and she sighed in resolution. Miranda was right, of course she was, She tended to be most of the time, not that Andy would ever inflate the other woman's already enlarged ego by telling her. “You’re right.” She really was an idiot. “I promise nothing will hurt their bond with each other or us. I adore the wee monsters, I want to be in their lives.” She said in reference to the girls. “And I think Ducky and Azza loves you more than they do me.”

“They are brilliant young men with excellent taste after all.” She preened as Andy rolled her eyes.

“You wouldn’t even try reassuring me that it's mind over matter?”

“Why would I lie?” Miranda asked innocently.

“You know what, just for that I’m gonna…” She shot to her feet and within moments had a shrieking Miranda thrown over her shoulder. She moved like lightning, running across the sands as Miranda smacked her back, kicked her legs and demanded to put down. “Not on your life Priestly.” Andy snickered as she dove into the waves with Miranda securely held in her arms. Behind them, the children fell to the sand, giggling at their parents’ antics when Miranda rose from the water, beach dress soaked completely through, and began chasing a laughing Andy through the tide.

_________________

Hunter had been following Strant for a few days now. After she had left him dangling from a window and made her daring escape, the man had grown scared and distrustful of those around him, and what did a man like do when such a thing happens? He skulked back to his hiding place of course, went back to the people whom he felt the safest and most secure. Just like she knew he would. The sniveling bastard would lead her right back to his bosses and then the real fun would begin.

She followed him, like a shadow that lurked behind but disappeared when you turned around. She was always with him. They had killed someone under her charge, sabotaged a revolutionary experiment and shot her, this was no longer business, it was personal. She had watched his personal bodyguard deliver a package to an unknown courier, but she was unable to intercept it personally.

Instead, he had Meyer’s team follow the suspicious Sedan with their advanced drone. The package was then dispatched by the courier with an intent to apparently send it overseas, to some location in the US, New York specifically. Matalon had another team working on that, she was to focus her attention on Strant.

She watched him pull into a very secured compound. She counted ten armed guards at the entrance gate, security cameras and spikes littered the top of the almost thirty feet stonewall. He had been held up inside for about five hours and he showed no intention of leaving. This must be it, this must be the central base of the ‘Dark Palm.’

She would need to stake out the property completely and gage the amount of guards that fully surrounded it  — plus how much were inside — then she would need to find a way to infiltrate without detection. It would take a few days at the least, she needed to work fast. She grunted as she kicked her motorcycle into gear and speed past the compound. She would return when it was dark.

________________

Cristi fanned the puff of dust from his face that had risen when the contractors had started tearing down the walls. Donned in a bright yellow hard hat, overalls and steel-toed boots, he looked the part of the blue collared construction worker. If not for his amazing physique and gorgeous face, he would have been impossible to spot among the throng of men that moved in and out of the building.

Nigel stepped inside, looking around as the workers hammered and tore down. He was impressed with how quickly things were coming along, and with the fact that Cristi hadn’t just humoured him, but had taken his advice and recommendations to heart. He could see every idea he gave being brought to life.

Outside, there were a few skulking photographers waiting for a sign of the foreign billionaire aristocrat so the world could drool over him. Nigel smirked to himself, thinking how the paparazzi would kill to know how grumpy the gorgeous man was in the morning, how he liked to walk up and down his apartment in the tiniest, skimpiest silk boxers Nigel had ever seen, a truly scandalous feat considering _all_ that Cristi was packing. He always smirked when he caught Nigel staring, and staring was something Nigel did a lot of.

“Oi Hermoso, you’re here.” Cristi waved him over with a wide grin.

“I knew I’d find you here. I just thought I’d drop in during my lunch break.”

“I’m glad you’re here. Everyone-” He turned to the group of people who surrounded him, huddled over the blueprints and sketches of the building. “This is Nigel, the one who came up with all these amazing ideas.” Everyone murmured their greetings as Nigel nodded to them. Cristi then went on to introduce them all to the art director before he pulled Nigel away. “It’s fantastic, no?” He buzzed with excitement.

Nigel smiled before leaning to press a kiss to his cheek, and then stopped himself, unsure whether it would be a welcomed thing. Rolling his eyes, Cristi tilted his head, offering his cheek to the other man, waiting expectantly on his kiss. Laughing lowly and feeling suddenly, completely at ease, he pressed a kiss to the offered cheek as Crist preened.

“It’s really coming along Cristi. I can’t believe they’ve moved so fast.”

“Hmmm, you’ll be surprised how quickly people move when you double their commission.”

Nigel’s eyes widened as he tried to imagine the bill that must be.

“But it is worth it, I spent triple for the renovations in Singapore so I can’t complain.”

Nigel blew out a breath, sometimes he forgot how casually wealthy the man was. Cristi then pulled Nigel through an archway into another light wide open space.

“This is where I will showcase the local talent, all the up comers who need a place to shine and be discovered.”

Nigel whistled. “I don’t know how many poor starving artists would be able to pay for a showcase in a Benavente Gallery.” He said lowly, he didn’t want to offend the man but everyone knew the prestige and honour that came with being showcased in the family’s Gallery or Museums. It was tantamount to signing one's name among the greats. It was very selective and extremely exclusive.

“No, there would be no charge, no fees, nothing. We support and build the arts yes? Once the talent is there, I’ll not deny them, it is the Benavente way.” He said earnestly and Nigel swooned a little.

Cristi then held his hand and carried him through the building, showing him all that had been accomplished so far. Nigel was so hooked on Cristi and his charisma that he almost lost track of the time. If he left now he’d still be late. He groaned before turning to Cristi, when the other man saw his face he nodded in understanding.

“You need to go back to work, si?”

Nigel nodded with a sigh. It was the first time he felt annoyed about his work.

“I’ll walk you out then.”

As they made their way to Nigel’s town car, the paparazzi swarmed them, pushing their cameras and microphones into Cristi’s face who purposely ignored them.

_“Cristobal! Cristobal!_ ” The shouts echoed around him. The man’s only response was shooting them his best smile, before guiding Nigel with a hand on his back to his car.

“How long will the Riot Club be in New York?!”

“What are you building here?! Is it New York’s first Benavente?!”

Around them the questions swirled.

“Who is that Cristobal!?” Another shouted.

Turning to the camera, Cristi’s smile stretched across his face, charming the onlookers who waited.

“My boyfriend, he’s so handsome si?” He said as he ushered Nigel in, but not before planting in full view of everyone, the most toe-curling kiss on his lips. “I will call you later misterio.” He whispered as he closed the car door, leaving a stunned Nigel inside.

“Boyfriend?” Nigel whispered to himself as the crowd outside went wild, and then slowly a smile broke out unto his face and he lightened.  _ ‘Did he just announce them to the world, oh damn my heart.’ _ Nigel swooned as he plopped back into his seat with a laugh.

____________

Miranda laid in bed, wide-awake and staring at the ceiling. Sleep eluded her, and her thoughts were riveted to the woman who was probably asleep down the hall. When the woman had voiced her desire to talk, something had shot up inside Miranda, she couldn’t bear to hear what the woman had to say. Maybe it would have been some rejection or a desire to forget everything that was happening and so Miranda had spoken before she thought.

Now she found herself in some sort of weird, sex-only relationship and she had a strange feeling that it would definitely end horribly. She hadn’t been sure what the brunette’s intentions were, she still wasn’t, if she was being honest, but at least now she could enjoy the other woman’s body without the niggling voices in the back of her mind.

She groaned in frustration and kicked at her sheets. She thought of the look the woman had shot her right before she had so flippantly agreed to Miranda’s harebrained idea. It was so strange, it vanished so quickly that Miranda barely had the chance to decipher it. So now, she was left questioning everything in the middle of the night when she was supposed to be sleeping.

She huffed,  _ ‘Well they had already agreed…so why not? Why not just give herself over and enjoy what was being so readily offered to her?’ _

She shot from her bed in a flash and marched down the hall with a purpose. She was Miranda Fucking Priestly, she could control herself and those around. She could have sex  with someone without catching feelings like some naïve doe eyed schoolgirl, and she had every intention of proving that to herself. She knew it was out of her character, but she wouldn’t allow Andy the upper hand, she wouldn’t allow the woman to think even for a minute that she had, had one upped Miranda Priestly! Her frustration, her anger -and most of all -her desire mounted and she felt the control slip from her fingers.

She banged on Andrea’s bedroom door, careful not to wake the children who were on the floor below. When the door finally swung open, a slightly groggy Andrea appeared at the step, eyeing her quizzically.

“Priestly what-”

In the same breath, Miranda crushed their lips together, pushing the brunette back into her room and swinging the door close behind them. She felt as though she were under some delirium, intoxicated and hypnotized dream as Andrea responded in kind, grabbing at her shoulders and her hair and filling her mouth with tongue.

Miranda drove her back further, tearing at the silk tank top, gasping against her lips as her breath hitched. She pushed the girl who fell onto her bed, staring up at Miranda with wild eyes, desire burning within them, but also uncertainty. Choosing to ignore that look, Miranda climbed up, straddling Andrea before reaching forward, her hands pushing under her shirt.

She felt something primal drive her and she gripped the girl’s hand, shoving her wrists above her head. She felt Andy below her, the strain of her muscles and tendons, the restraint power of her body as she gave over her trust and a hunger rose within Miranda. Andy didn’t fight the hold, instead, she tilted her head up, reaching for a kiss.

Miranda’s fingers ripped at the bedding, all her pent up lust, frustration, burning desire unleashed itself, and she could no longer hold back the raging animal within her. She leaned forward and plundered Andy’s mouth. She trailed her lips to the brunette’s neck and bit, before sucking the tender flesh into her mouth, imprinting her teeth and leaving behind a bruise that would surely mark her skin for the next few days.

Andy pulled a hand free and ran it through short white locks with a low groan, arching under her silver haired vixen, thrusting the heat between her thighs against her abdomen. She felt the hum of excitement, so she dove her hand down and cupped her. A hiss of pleasure tore itself from Andy’s lips and Miranda was hooked on the sound.

Her fingertips massage into the layers of cloth, and she felt the slick of her. Rearing up on her knees, she ripped open the fabric covering Andy’s torso, and then dove back down to kiss her. She barely sated her greed for Andy’s mouth, biting her lower lip, swiping her tongue over her teeth.

It was beyond anything she had ever experienced. The feeling, the scent, the taste, she was beyond captivated, she was addicted. Andy’s strong hands dragged down her sides, soft yet she could feel the fine remnant of calluses that was odd for a woman of her stature, but Miranda didn’t mind one bit.

Andy’s hand squeezed around her hips, guiding her to grind deliciously against her raised thigh while her eyes had gone heavy-lidded watching her. Moaning, she rode against her, but it did little to sate her lust, it only served to work her desires further into a frenzy. She tore at the remaining clothing that covered Andy’s body, Andy who writhed under her, helping her to push away the offending fabric so that their bodies could finally touch.

She pulled back, frantically removing her own offending garments, before grabbing at Andy’s ankles. She moaned in ecstasy at the first swipe of her tongue. _‘Fuuuuuck, is this what she had been missing?’_ She thought as her mind lost all semblance of control. Burying her face in Andrea, she takes her at last. Her folds part under the flat of Miranda’s tongue. 

She tasted as rich as the history of her bloodline, as fine as the most delicious aged wine. The tip of her tongue flicked at Andy’s firm clit, who then inhaled sharply through her nose. Licking at her clit, she dove down deeper into her, breathing in her very essence. Everything inside her screamed the same thing.  _ ‘She is mine!’ _

__ Andy’s hands moved down to cradle her head as she arched her back, her head tilted up to the sky as a garbled mess of words left her lips. Her finger grip and yank at the iconic white, the tiny prickling of pain only spurred Miranda on as she closed her lips around Andy’s clit and sucked. Andy screamed as her toes curled, but before she could find release Miranda withdrew the pleasurable suction and instead licked faster and wetter. She panted hot against Miranda as she gave the woman everything.

Andy’s hair fanned out against the pillows underneath her as one hand moved to grip the bedding with a ferocity that tore the sheets. The other hand saw nails digging lightly into Miranda’s scalp. She had never known pleasure like this. She had never been taken with such passion, with such wild abandon, with such a primal urgency. She was ruined for anyone and anything else.

Miranda’s tongue swept off Andy’s folds, and then flicked over her clit, over and over, rubbing against the side of it. When she released Andy’s ankle, both of her legs dropped heavy around her neck and hooked her head in closer, tighter. Feeling feverish with the heat of her desire, she smashed her mouth into Andy and sucked at her clit until she thrashed above her, around her. The grip tightened to near-strangling intensity, her Andy’s body bent in half, but still Miranda did not relent, licking hard, fast, deep.

With a hoarse cry, a jerk and the spasm of her thigh, Andy came harder than she ever thought possible. A blinding light shot across her eyes as she rose higher than ever before, Miranda felt her own ache build but she didn't relent, she continued to lick through every shudder of breath, until the heel of a palm pushed at her head. 

She groaned in understanding before she ducked and nibbled kisses unto the insides of Andy’s still quivering thighs, her hands smoothing down to her calves. When she looked up, Andy’s gazed down at her, eyes heavy-lidded and mouth curled.

She then reached down to pull Miranda’s up her body, her chest still panting rapidly under a high flush and a sheen of exertion.  _ ‘She is so beautiful.’ _ Miranda thought as she moved willingly and without hesitation, burying and losing herself in a kiss that curled her own toes, rising slightly, they shared each other’s breath. Andy’s hands stole across her body with every intention of showing the editor just how pleased and excited she was, but Miranda was distracted. 

She was lost in the deepest brown she’d ever seen, she was hooked on the happy twinkle she found there, on the easy, lazy smile that tugged as Andrea’s lips before she moved to pepper kisses along Miranda’s jaw.

Miranda was lost in the aching beauty of it when she suddenly, as if struck by lightning, remembered the promise she made to herself. She couldn’t allow herself to develop feelings for this woman, it would destroy her, she just knew it. It was the first time she’d ever allowed herself to, to fully immerse in the passions of sex. 

She really had tried with her husbands and her lovers over the years, trying to move away from the stilted sometimes cold responses she had to their lackluster attempts at seduction, but they all failed, -each and every time- in inspiring the raw animalistic need she had stormed into Andrea’s room with. It was like a match had been lit and now a raging inferno burned in its place. With a quicksilver speed, she was up and out of the bed, breathing heavily as she watched Andy sit up, questioning eyes watching her.

“Wha-”

“Thanks for scratching the itch.” She heard herself say. She needed to control herself.

Andy’s brows rose, her eyes wide and vulnerable as she tugged the sheet to cover herself. She quickly turned away but not before Miranda saw the flash of hurt steal across her face. Just as quickly though, she turned back to face her, a cocky smirk on her lips as she leaned back casually unto the headboard of the bed.

“I am a woman of my word.”

Miranda nodded, deciding that her mind had definitely played a trick on her _. ‘Andrea? Vulnerable? Hurt? Ha! She was really losing it now. This was what the girl lived for, casual flings, with no emotions or strings. Miranda was just another one of many.’_

As the thoughts echoed in her mind, she stiffened in anger. She refused to allow herself to fall into that trap. She moved to pick up her clothes and dress herself before turning back to the woman who looked at her like the cat who ate the canary.

“In the morning then.” She said stiffly.

“Sure Priestly.”

As Miranda opened the door and stepped out, she heard behind her. “You owe me new sleepwear by the way.” She said referring to her torn clothes on the floor.

“Well,” She sniffed, “You still owe me a blouse from before.”

There was silence before and amused, “Touché,” rang out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. – B.S.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. Here’s another chapter, stay safe and I hope you enjoy. – B.S.

Andy twiddled with her pen idly as she listened to what was supposed to be a very important conference call. Sachs International was gearing to launch it’s latest revolutionary tech and Andy had every intention of doing it at the conference in Dubai. The fact that this particular event coincided with the Gala celebrating all things fashion, one that she had arranged for Runway to attend made her…giddy.

Her thoughts drifted to the editor, brought to memory when they had returned to New York only a few days prior. AS she maneuvered the vehicle into city traffic, the vehicle, specifically the back seat, had grown silent and tense and Andy turned down a familiar road.

“Are you, are you taking us back to the townhouse?” Cassidy’s voice was small.

It was not lost on Miranda that her daughter hadn’t said home and she stiffened, unsure how to handle the emotions the words were evoking.

“Hmm?” Andy looked into the rear-view mirror briefly before returning her eyes to the road.

“You’re not taking us home?” Caroline asked this time, frowning as they drove down their street.

Everyone in the car knew she wasn’t referring to the townhouse, that much was clear.

“Girls.” Miranda swallowed. She too felt apprehensive going back there. In fact, if she were being honest with herself, she was very much terrified. The thought of sleeping and having her babies sleep there when anything could happen, when anyone could enter, made her sick. Still, she didn’t want to overstay her welcome, that was a slight her pride could not and would not take. “I’m sure we have disrupted Andrea’s life and invaded her space enough already. We can stay at the Ritz for a few days until you…”

“Don’t, Miranda.” Andy gritted, her knuckles were gripped so tightly on the steering wheel, and they looked almost translucent. “You’re all more than welcomed to stay as long as you like, I just thought you might want to pick up a few things. The girls’ uniforms, more clothes, things like that.” She eyed Miranda whose cheeks burned pink.

Miranda was embarrassed. She had misunderstood the situation and now the disappointment in Andrea’s voice made her cringe at herself.

The girls’ relief was palpable and it was as if a tense weight was lifted from the vehicle.

“If you prefer, you could write a list and I’ll have my people go and pick them up.”

Miranda was focused, her eyes at the road ahead, but she nodded, it was quick and brisk and Andy could have easily missed it.

Andy turned the car, heading towards the penthouse rather than the former Priestly residence. She wouldn’t admit it to the editor, but she was hurt. She was hurt that the woman who she was…giving her affections to would think that she would have so carelessly thrown her and her daughters out. She had hoped that the woman thought better of her, apparently, that was wishful thinking.

“I’m sorry.” The words were so low it was almost inaudible.

“What was that?”

Miranda sighed, shooting Andy a long-suffering look. “I said, I’m sorry.”

Andy felt the smile tug at her lips. She knew she shouldn’t give the editor a hard time, but she really did deserve it.

“Oh? I imagine that tasted as painful as it sounded.” Amusement coated her voice.

“Well, if you’re going to make fun of my apology, then I take it back.” The editor huffed.

“You can’t do that. I’ve already heard it, it’s mine now.”

“I don’t care.”

Andy grinned, before reaching down and gently clasping the hand Miranda had in her thigh in her own.

“All is forgiven.”

“Just like that?” Miranda was skeptical. Her ex-husbands always tended to blow up at the least little thing before descending into passive aggression.

“Just like that.” Andy quickly turned and smiled at her, before subconsciously lifting Miranda’s hand to her lips and pressing a kiss to the back.

Behind them, the children watched silently, buzzing with excitement. Cassidy almost squealed when Andy kissed her Mom’s hand and then she almost jumped out of her seat when instead of pulling her hand free with a purse of her lips, Miranda blushed, eyeing Andy from under her lashes with an odd half smile. Their plan was working!

“Andy!” A voice hissed beside her. It wasn’t until a piece of paper smacked her forehead that she was pulled from the memory.

“Wha…?”

Cristi eyed her incredulously, she was zoning out during a pivotal moment of the meeting. Luckily Serena had intervened, steering them away from the brunette and answering all the necessary questions herself.

When the call ended, Andy found herself cringing under twin gazes, both equal parts curious, amused and frustrated.

“Want to explain why you were mentally MIA on a meeting that you arranged and said and I’m quoting here, ‘needs to go perfectly so that we’ll be good for Dubai.’”

Andy sunk lower into her chair, especially when Cristi’s eyes became knowing.

“Does this have anything to do with a certain silver haired editor?” He smirked.

Her eyes narrowed as she straightened in her seat, a scowl on her lips.

“What?” Serena was confused.

“Shut up Cristi.”

“Andy here is in lo-”

Andy was up in a flash as she practically jumped over the table, her hands clamped over Cristi’s mouth as the two went tumbling to the ground. Serena lifted her legs with a roll of her eyes as the two wrestled under her feet. All the while Cristi was still trying to speak.

“Andy and Miranda…” He gasped at a punch to the chest, a favour he returned by gripping her in a headlock. “…sitting in a tree…” She freed herself and now had his head clamped between her thighs. “K.I.S.S.I-” He wheezed, but still refused to stop spelling even as he turned blue.

“Say uncle!” Andy yelled.

“N.G!”

“You little shit!”

Serena's eyes met Andy’s assistant who stood wide-eyed, watching the scuffle completely bewildered. With a huff, she rose to her feet, walked over to them, and then grabbed the two by the ear, pulling them apart.

“Ow! Ow!” They yelled in unison. The two squirmed trying to get out of the blonde’s hold, but her grip was firm and absolute.

“Behave.” She hissed. “We have company.” With one last tug and a yelp from them, she released, before elegantly returning to her chair.

As soon as she turned her back, Cristi stuck out his tongue at Andy who flipped him off. With a grin, he straightened his clothes and reclaimed his seat.

“Uh, Lady Sachs.” The woman cleared her throat.

“Go ahead love.” Andy rubbed furiously at her abused ear, trying to get the sting out.

“The Board wanted me to remind you about the company games this weekend.”

“Company what?”

“The company games. I sent you a memo last week.”

Andy smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck.

“You didn’t read it.”

“No I did not.”

“Each magazine teams up and plays against each other, builds team morale they say.” The woman looked down at her tablet and scrolled. “This year is softball, so there is that.” She said dryly.

Andy groaned. “I take it, my presence is required.”

“Right again.”

“None of us plays softball.” Andy rubbed at her forehead.

“Bold of you to assume that I’m going.” Serena didn’t even look up from her phone.

“We…” Cristi narrowed his eyes at Serena before turning to the assistant. “Will be there to play your squishy ball.”

“Softball.”

“Exactly.” His grin was wide and charming and the woman flushed.

______________

Days later, Andy found herself, along with Serena, Cristi, Azza and Charlie making their way onto the field the company had rented, dressed in black fitted jerseys with  _ ‘ELIAS CLARKE’ _ across the chest. In the distance, they could see the various coloured jerseys of the different magazines. Milling about as they prepared for the first game.

“Fairy Queen!” Azza yelled at the top of his lungs before shooting off. Tearing across the field with one aim in mind. To get to the editor of Runway who was clad in a hot pink jersey, sitting under a sprawling tent looking as though she wished she could be anywhere else.

Andy snickered to herself as Miranda scowled at those around her, sending all those who dared to near her scurrying away. The only time the look left her face was when she heard Azza’s screech.

The little boy came charging. His jersey was a few sizes too big so it swished at his elbows and knees. His hair had grown longer and was now flopping around him in a mass of beautiful bouncing curls. ‘She would need to talk to Andrea about getting it cut.’ She thought. Everyone awwed at the cuteness overload as the little dimpled face grinned so wildly as he slammed into her feet.

“Hello Azari, aren’t you the cutest.” She smiled down at him as she brought him to her lap.

“That’s what Mama says.” He preened.

“Hi Miranda.” Charles moved to her and pressed a little kiss to her cheek before his eyes scanned his surroundings.

She patted his cheek affectionately before pointing behind her. “The girls are by the lake.”

With that, Azza had wiggled off her lap and the two were off.

“Fancy seeing you here.” Andy leaned against one of the support beams, watching Miranda ‘s annoyance return.

“Do use those horrible lines on every woman?”

“Only the really cute ones in jerseys.”

Miranda huffed before turning away. “Couldn’t you have cancelled this?”

“I could have.”

“And you didn’t because?”

“How else was I going to see Miranda Priestly sweat?” She said cheekily.

“I’m sure you could have found more… _ enjoyable _ ways.”  Miranda's voice dropped an octave lower, eyes shining with sultriness.

“Why Miranda!” She gasped. “Such scandal.” She pushed herself off the beam before leaning over the woman, one hand on each of the chair’s armrest. They hadn’t slept together since that night in Hampton and Andy felt as though she had gone weeks in the desert without water. “Tell me something Priestly, when can I have you sweating under me again?” Her voice dropped as she purred.

Miranda’s eyes darkened as her gaze flickered down to the brunette’s lips as her head subconsciously tilted up. Luckily the tent was clear.

“Well that explains everything.” Emily muttered breaking the spell that the two found themselves locked in.

“Good going Em, way to ruin the moment.” Nigel shook his head before pulling the woman out of the tent.

As they moved through the flaps of the tent, a voice sounded beside them. “Ah, you seem to have the knack of ruining everything everywhere you go don’t you?” Serena’s voice was an unnerving combination of bored yet biting. Clearly she had just witnessed Emily’s little faux pas. 

Emily stiffened under the harsh gaze of the blonde. She gritted her teeth, she refused to allow this madness to continue. Anything else would be a ridiculous lack of communication. “Ser-”

“That is Doctor Van Visser to you.” She gave the red head narrow eyed once over, barely able to conceal her contempt before walking away. Leaving a gaping Nigel and devastated Emily behind.

Emily was jarred from her shock within moments, after the call for the games to begin rang out, the Board against Runway. Perfect. Nigel shot her a questioning look, but she shrugged it off, her eyes begging him not to ask. With a nod he kept his thoughts to himself, recognizing Emily’s need to mentally sort out whatever it was that just transpired between herself and Cristi’s friend.

Across the field, Andy found herself near first base, taking grounders from Serena, who was having no success sneaking anything by her. She tried to trip her up, smacking a bullet halfway to second base, but she smoothly ranged to her right, the ball landing in the web of her glove like it was being pulled by a magnet.

“See, it wasn’t so hard to learn.” Cristi yelled from behind them.

“Yeah, yeah, you smug bastard.” Andy yelled back with a grin.

“Go Ru-way!!” Azza yelled.

“Hey!” Andy snapped around to him. “You’re here to cheer me on.”

“Oh? Your delusions are bleeding into reality.” Miranda was smug as she patted Azza’s head affectionately. “He’s a Runwayer through and through.”

“Really now, we’ll see about that.”

“Come on Azza, I have a surprise for you if you cheer for Mama.” Andy tried luring him over.

Azari’s eyes narrowed, mildly intrigued at the prospect.

“Bribery Andrea. That’s a low blow, even for you.” Miranda scoffed, but amusement bled through.

“You should know how low I can go Priestly.” She said lowly with a wink. Only Miranda heard but still she yelled.

“Andrea!” Miranda pressed her hands against Azza’s ears and shot Andy a look of absolute scandalous shock.

“You know you talk a big game for someone who’s too scared to play.” Andy teased and watched in glee as Miranda tensed and her eyes narrowed.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Nigel called out.

“Why?” Cristi frowned at him.

Nigel snickered. “Just wait and see.”

Miranda marched passed her, hands stretched out towards Nigel for the mitten.

“It’s about to go down.” Nigel giggled as he handed the mitts to her then moved to Andy who began rethinking her taunts when Miranda’s eyes started gleaming with a crazy glint.

“Is she any good?” Andy frowned.

“Miranda is the best, she’s a beast.” He grinned.

“That is…that is surprising.” Her brows raised.

“In the beginning it was because Irv forced her to come and participate, but then she got really, really good. I think she feeds off the fear now.”

Andy and Nigel sat silently, watching Miranda warm up. Driving through her hips, she pulled her pitching arm out of her glove, swung it back until it was nearly parallel to the ground and then rocked it toward home base, the ball spinning out of her fingers and into a high arc, somehow moving four different ways at once before landing in the catcher's glove.

Andy gaped as Nigel whistled.

“She’s the best and she knows it.”

Two innings later, Andy met Miranda “The Beast” Priestly, as she stood in the batter's box and tried to keep her eye on the ball. It wasn't easy, as every time Miranda stretched, her clothes would pull over her body and Andy would lose her train of thought staring at the  _ RUNWAY _ printed across the chest of her shirt. The woman's running shorts displayed a lovely amount of firm thigh atop tan legs. Her mind was riveted to Miranda’s body when the softball flew right by her torso and landed with a thud in the catcher's mitt.

"Strike one," yelled the umpire.

“Pay attention fool!” Serena yelled.

Miranda’s smirk renewed Andy’s focus as her hands tightened on the bat. She wouldn't be able to live it down if Miranda beat her, not from the amused, smug grin that was on the other woman’s face. ‘She was enjoying this!’ Andy made sure to watch the ball, which was heading right for the sweet spot of her swing. Andy tightened her grip on the bat and unleashed a mighty cut, only to hear the ball hit the catcher's mitt again. The fucking ball disappeared at the last minute.

“Strike two!”

“Mother-!”

“Mum!” Charlie chastised even as Caroline and Cassidy were laughing up a storm.

“You did it too fast!” Cristi yelled.

“Don’t worry Andrea, we could always cuddle.”

Andy pointed the bat at Miranda. “You’re an arse Priestly.” She said in mock anger.

She was determined now. She wouldn’t be struck out this time. Andy watched the ball leave Miranda's hand one more time and swung through, sending it down the third-base line. She sprinted for first base, beating the throw by half a step.

Miranda watched her, shocked, as Andy with a flourish gave an overly dramatic bow. It was almost halfway through the game and Andy was one base from homerun. She watched Miranda pitch again, the ball flying with a curve at Cristi who barely managed to nick a piece, sending it rocketing back towards the pitcher’s mound, heading straight for the editor.

Without thought Andy instinctively ran, pushing herself to beat the ball’s arrival. She quickly turned, shielding the woman’s body, the ball landing smack under her ribs. She hissed and recoiled at the contact. Everyone yelled and rushed forward. Some wanted to ensure that their boss wasn’t mad and others wanted to know that their friend was okay.

Andy moved from hovering over Miranda, and then tied her shirt just under her sports bra to inspect the injury. She felt the sting radiate from a large, impressive already darkening bruise displayed in all its glory on her taut torso. Even though Miranda had seen Andy fully naked only once, she hadn’t the chance to fully appreciate the woman’s body, so for a second as she gazed at the rock-hard six-pack next to the bruising, she was stunned, impressed and the air around her began to buzz with heat.

“Oh wow.” Emily found herself saying, and then quickly swallowed her words as piercing blue narrowed and shot to hers.

“That bad?”

“I think she was talking about those abs, very impressive indeed.” Nigel fanned himself as he grinned.

“Hey! You should only look at my abs.” Cristi bumped his shoulders playfully.

“Of course darling.” He pressed a kiss to the other man’s cheek before shooting a wink at Andy.

“Are you in any pain?” Miranda was worried and it bled into her voice.

“Only if you don’t kiss it better.” Andy grinned cheekily then yelped when Miranda smacked the bruise. “Damn it woman! Don’t you see I’m hanging on by a thread?”

“And they call me a drama queen.” Nigel guffawed.

Looking Andy straight in the eye, Serena ordered, "Take a deep breath." She did just that and nodded. "Doesn't hurt to breathe, doesn't feel broken." Serena murmured to herself before turning to the group. “She’ll be fine, she’s had worse.” Serena offered after inspecting the bruise.

“Don’t tell her that!” She said in exasperation. “She was going to kiss it better.”

“I most certainly was not.” Miranda smacked her again for good measure.

“Apples! Apples!” Andy jumped.

Miranda couldn’t help herself, the laugh bubbled from within her and in seconds she was doubling over. The rest watched rapt fascination at the editor’s giggling, all but Andy, who watched her with an easy smile, a tenderness and a lightness to her eyes. She made Miranda laugh, and she would willingly allow herself to be struck by a hundred, no, a thousand balls if it meant Miranda would do it again.

“Not even a thank you?” Andy said lowly when Miranda stopped laughing.

Blue eyes crinkled with amusement mingled with gratitude. She neared Andy, rose unto the tip of her toes and pressed a light kiss to Andy’s cheek. “You’re an idiot, but thank you.”

Andy’s smile could have rivaled the sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. – B.S.
> 
> P.S. For anyone interested, follow me on tumblr. It's Bastesloan.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. Here’s another chapter, stay safe and I hope you enjoy. – B.S.

Emily made her way to the mound, her fingers gripped the bat, tightening around the smooth wood. Across from her, Serena stood motionless at the pitching mound. Her eyes narrowed as her French braid swished gently behind her in the afternoon breeze. Emily winced at having been chosen to go against her. She had just wanted to go to the dugout and disappear in the seats.  _ Was that too much to ask? _

As the umpire signaled it was time to begin, she bent forward in position. She really wasn’t one for sports but she would be damned if Runway lost because of her, so she kept her eyes on the ball, watching it closely. It was the focus she had that made her come to the startling realization that the ball was heading straight for her head. Emily dove out of the way, as the object zinged with a speed and accuracy that would have surely left her bleeding in the dirt.

Serena watched the red head’s escape from the ball with a twisted sort of glee. It was her own fault for always trying to fix something was clearly dead. Why didn’t the woman just leave things as they are? It had taken her years to get over it and if the Brit had just kept her mouth shut and kept it moving, everything would have been fine, it would have stayed buried, as it should. Hell! She could’ve pretended they didn’t know each other! But no! She wanted to _talk_! To work it out!

As if Serena would ever allow herself to feel anything for her again. She would never allow herself to think about how age had truly been gloriously kind to the redhead. Damn it! How is it possible that she was even more gorgeous!? Her eyes still twinkled; Serena had fallen for those beautiful greens first, then everything just fell into place after.

Emily narrowed her eyes at her and Serena felt her heart sputter. They still had such sway over her it was alarmingly concerning. Emily was unravelling everything she had spent years suppressing and burying. The umpire had called out a foul, Serena couldn’t care less. When Emily righted herself again, she took aim and threw. The results were the same. This time however, Emily barely missed the ball by an inch.

The white of her shorts were now brown and green, stained with dirt and grass, and she was PISSED! She would give Serena one more chance, ONE MORE! Then that was it! The umpire called a foul once again. Their teammates around them frowned in confusion. Serena was acting uncharacteristically aggressive to someone she barely knew. Granted she was known to lose her temper from time to time, but it was almost always work related and a few times at Andy and Cristi’s ridiculous recklessness, but never just out of the blue.

“Rena? Everything okay bella?” Cristi called out, worry lacing his voice.

“Never been better.” She gritted.

“You sure?” Andy moved closer to her. “Because I think that vein in your forehead is about to explode and you have...you have that look in your eye.” She winced at the madness that danced within the jade greens.

Refusing to answer, she threw the ball again. This time without the umpire’s signal or Emily’s attention. The umpire thankfully pulled the red head out of the way with only a few seconds to spare.

“Why you little shit!” Emily finally snapped as she rose to her feet.

Throwing both her bat and helmet after the insufferable blonde who managed to dodge the objects. Ripping the gloves from her hands, with wild red hair and blazing eyes, she stalked towards the scientist. Serena was unable to move, she was stuck, she was mesmerized. Serena thought she looked like some ancient goddess, wild and furious, coming to sate her desires or to burn the world down.

Cristi had moved forward to intercept, but Andy gripped his arm with a shake of her head. She recognized that look in Serena’s eyes. Whatever history lingered between the two today was the day when it would all come to head.

“I have been putting up with your bloody foolishness for fucking week!” She was now a hair's breadth away.

Gripping the front of the blonde’s jersey. Then much to everyone’s surprise, she captures Serena’s lips fiercely in a kiss that took the knees out from under the blonde. Almost sending her to the ground if not for the grip Emily had on her. For a moment, all thought was wiped from her mind, every bit of the anger she had carried for years evaporated into nothingness.

The only thing that remained was the feeling of those oh so soft lips moving against hers, of that skilled tongue coaxing hers into submission. Emily had clearly honed her skill over the years, she thought as the red head plundered, devoured and coaxed. It was that thought that brought Serena out of her haze. The imagery of all the things Emily would have had to do and all the people she would have had to do it with in order to claim such a talent.

While Serena herself was no nun, over the years she had been unable to allow herself to feel for anyone, and so as time passed, her number of lovers began to dwindle until there was none. It would seem Emily hadn’t suffered from the same affliction.

With a force, she pushed the woman away with a smack to the cheek. The sting even radiated through her own hand, but she didn’t care. Cristi moved forward to help the redhead, but Emily stilled him with the raise of her hand. Her cheek burned just as brightly as her hair.

“How dare you!? How dare you fucking touch me?!” Serena snarled. “Why must you insist on taking everything from me?!” She screamed.

Emily didn’t even acknowledge the slap, instead she whirled around, the anger radiating from her every pore. “I’m the one who took everything from you?! I wasn’t the one who fucked someone after lying about who they were for MONTHS! I gave you my heart, you fucking idiot and I never even knew your name!”

Around them, the field grew quiet. Everyone watched wide eyed as the two went at it, but no one dared to interrupt.

“I never lied to you, not when it mattered! I told you, you were beautiful. I meant that! I told you things I’ve never told anyone else, those were true!”

Behind them, Andy and Cristi moved forward with a sound of protest at the confession. It was Miranda’s hands, as she reached up to grip their collars, that stilled their movements. A harsh _‘Not now!”_ was snapped at the two.

Serena was breathing heavily and her eyes were unfocused. “When I told you I loved you, I never lied about that! If I had known that you were a conniving, manipulating  _ bitch _ I would have never fallen for yo-!”

“My parents died!” Emily finally managed to scream over the blonde. The words snapped her mouth shut.

“Wha-”

“That’s why I left in the middle of the bloody night. While laying there, watching you sleep, thinking it was the best night of my life, I got a call that my parents had…” She gasped, pressing her hand to her mouth as a sob tore through her. Serena moved forward but the look in Emily’s eyes stilled her. “They were dead, Serena. While I was out falling in love, they were dying.” She whispered as tears streamed down her face. She hated that she had to scream those words now. She hated that she had to do it in front of everyone. She hated Serena for making her do it.

Serena’s heart seized. She remembered how close young Emily was with her parents. She tried imagining herself experiencing such a devastating loss, but her mind drew blank. She would have been a mess, a wreck. That much she knew.

“I-” She tried speaking.

“I barely remember leaving. I just stuffed my stuff in a suitcase, grabbed my passport and was on the next flight out. I didn’t, I hadn’t even realized I’d left you until after the funeral. By then it was already two months and I- I tried. I tried looking for you but imagine my surprise when you weren’t you,  _ Gizelle _ .” Her eyes had hardened. “You stand there, blaming me, hating me for years. Did it ever once occur to you that there might have been a reason? Before you strung me up and made me this cold twisted villain, did you ever think about me? Did you ever really know me? You said you loved me, but you never even gave me the chance to-” She turned her head away, swallowing the hurt that rose.

Serena winced, realizing she wasn’t the victim as she had thought. She wasn’t the only one who had been devastated. She had known Emily, she should have known that the girl was incapable of such heartless cruelty, yet she allowed her pride to rear its head, controlling her thoughts for years. She could barely breathe with the knowledge.

Emily slowly backed away. She needed to get out of here. She needed to go home and curl up in her bed, to cry in private. She wouldn’t give the blonde the benefit of her tears. As she made her way off the field, she saw Nigel, even Miranda reach for her. With a shake of her head, she moved out of their reach. She needed to be alone. Before she left however, she looked over her shoulder at the blonde. The blonde who was staring at her wide eyed and confused, her hand reaching out slightly.

“You’ll never understand how much you’ve broken my heart.” She whispered before turning around and walking off the field. If she looked back, she would have seen the blonde fall to her knees. She would have seen the devastation she had left behind.

_____________

Miranda watched the buildings pass through the passenger window as her driver maneuvered the town car through New York traffic. She had a run through with an up-and-coming designer and with her approval, not only would he will be featured in Runway, but also his place at Fashion Week would be secured and as the glitterati would say, blessed.

After the fiasco of the last “up-and-coming designer” Runway had nearly launched, the idiot who had stolen the work from another starving artist and tried passing it off as his own, Miranda had been meticulous, damn near anal when it came to background checks and due diligence. She shuddered when she thought of the scandal and backlash that would have occurred had Andrea not intervened.

She had fired the head of the department who was responsible for such research and when she found out that, he had taken a bribe to look the other way? Well, let’s just say he would spend the remainder of his working years flipping burgers in some obscure off brand fast food chain in the middle of bumfuck nowhere.

Now she was to meet the girl responsible for the brilliant creations she had fallen in love with. She was sure after seeing the girl’s portfolio that she would be the next big thing. Her designs would span decades with the likes of Coco Chanel, Valentino and De la Renta. She just knew it. So, it was with high expectations and a thrum of excitement that Miranda blazed into the showroom the girl had procured. With a flurry of faux fur – the girl’s had watched a fur farming documentary and had cried for days before “staging a coup” – and Chanel sunglasses, she announced her entrance and took a seat in the front row.

The lights in the room dimmed in preparation for the show to begin. Out of the corner of her eye, Miranda noticed the movement of someone coming to sit in the chair right next to hers. She frowned at the unusual occurrence. No one ever sat near her during these things, save for Nigel. Everyone knew she required silence and focus when assessing every stitch and so she refused to be distracted by idle inane chatter.

She turned to purse her lips at the woman beside her but when she saw her face she felt her jaw slacken and her eyes widen. Shock sprang forth, then slight confusion. The woman seemed oddly familiar. Maybe it was the twinkle in her that peculiar shade of brown that reminded her of someone, or the curve of her lip, but before Miranda could ponder further, the light lowered leaving the room in darkness.

Then with a burst of music, the room erupted in a spectacular whirlwind of colours and Miranda’s eyes riveted to the show in awe. She was right, she knew she was right, but it was another thing to see it all in splendid glory. With each piece that graced the runway, Miranda gave a simple nod of approval. By the end of the show, the woman beside her was on her feet clapping and Miranda offered the nervous designer a small smile and nod and watched as the woman sagged in relief.

Cataleya Fiallo would be a household name if she had anything to do with it.

The woman came down from the podium. Excitement thrumming through her as she approached Miranda.

“Ms. Priestly, I am so grateful you came.”

“I heard good things and I wanted to know what all the fuss was about. Your designs, they are…breathtaking.” Miranda’s voice was low and some would say cold, but her words still brought the brightest smile to the young woman’s face.

“Thank you! Thank you so much. You have no idea what it means to hear you say that.”

The woman who had sat beside Miranda walked over to the two, her flaming red hair with a speckle of bronze at the temple flowed behind her. She stood a little over average height, almost the same as Miranda and she was lean and stunning. Looking at her eyes, one would realize that the woman was not in fact in her thirties. There was too much wisdom there. Too much intelligence along with the spark of someone who had seen and done much.

When she spoke, it was with the most charming Scottish accent, her lilt could leave one swooning if they weren’t careful. She congratulated the Cataleya with a warmness that was surprising and brought a blush to the young designer’s face.

“Miranda, I’m so sorry. This is my benefactor, she sponsored all of this.” She gestured at the showroom and tasteful décor.

The woman held out her hand. “You may call me Ainslie.” She smiled and Miranda’s confusion mounted. That smile, she knew that smile, but every time her mind sought to connect the dots, it’s as if the connection faded.

“Miranda.” She clasped the woman’s hand with a frown.

“When I heard about Cataleya here, my curiosity got the better of me and when I saw her portfolio, I knew I just had to help the starving artist. We should nurture talent when we see it, yes?”

Miranda nodded in agreement before turning to the girl. “Have these pieces along with four new ones ready in two weeks, Runway will contact you with the necessary information. And the models you used, I want them as well.”

“Yes, yes of course Miranda. Thank you again, thank you so much.”

“Thank me by meeting my expectations. I abhor disappointments, understood.” She pulled on her sunglasses and waited for her second assistant to retrieve her coat and bag.

“I swear, I won’t make you regret taking a chance on me, none of us will.” She gestured behind her at her friends and models.

“Good. Now off you go.” Miranda waved her away. Then watched from her peripheral as the girl ran over to her models and they all started screaming. Forgetting about the other woman’s presence, a small genuine smile tugged at her lips.

“My, my, you truly are beautiful.” The woman tilted her head, curiosity shining through. “Tell me something Miranda, are you seeing anyone?”

Miranda pulled her hand free with a sharp yank, looking at the woman incredulously. _‘Why the nerve!’_ As her ire mounted, so did the Ainslie’s amusement.

“Don’t work yourself into a snit, Miranda, I’m married.” She held up her hand to show Miranda the most stunning blue diamond. “And I’m painfully monogamous and faithful. Your virtue is safe with me.” She finished with a wink, making Miranda think it was anything but. “Come.” She hooked her hand through the crook of Miranda’s arm. “…Let's have lunch. I have the perfect person for you.”

Miranda gaped at the audacity of the woman. Ainslie had a certain charm to her that made one feel fond exasperation rather than actual annoyance. Nevertheless, Miranda had her hands rather full with one Andrea Sachs and she felt no urge or desire to do whatever the Scot was insinuating.

“I’m not interested in whatever you have in mind.” She had no idea why she was even indulging the stranger who dared to touch her. Normally, she would have already given her the famous Priestly glare and had her scurrying away with a verbal evisceration that would leave a grown man whimpering on the ground for mercy.

“Oh Miranda, live a little. What’s the harm?”

“Aside from the fact that you are a virtual stranger? You do realize we’ve only met an hour right?”

“And I feel like I’ve known you forever. I can tell we’ll be great friends. I have sense for these things you see.”

“Is that so?”

The woman hummed as she pushed her own sunglasses unto her nose.

“Come on, indulge an old woman, let's have lunch.”

Miranda’s amusement rose as the woman grinned cheekily at her.

“I haven’t been to the City in years. Would you leave me to starve?”

“Somehow, I doubt that’s the case.” Miranda’s eyes raked the woman’s body, assessing the couture that draped effortlessly over her, then down to the very, very expensive heels on her feet. The woman was evidently well off, judging from the thousands and thousands of dollars’ worth of clothes and accessories she had on.

“Say yes.”

Maybe it was the familiarity the woman evoked, or the calmness that radiated from her, but Miranda heard herself agreeing before her mind even registered, and with that Ainslie shot her a triumphant smirk before pulling her through the throng of paparazzi that waited outside.

Damnit! She knew that smirk too!

_______________

Director Matalon was on edge. She had just gotten word from Meyer after she ran a diagnostic algorithm on Burkenheim’s thumb drive that something had in fact been stolen from the Berlin lab. She was furious, furious that her people had missed something so crucial, especially when Serena had left the agents to do inventory.

Now this cock up was going to cost them. The saboteurs had stolen the blueprint of the technology used to create the nanos. With the foundation, the algorithms and all necessary instructions, those bastards could be mass-producing their own cluster within a few months’ time. She knew she had to call an emergency meeting with Andy, Cristi and Serena, it was their baby, they had been spearheading the launch since they drunkenly came up with the idea two years ago – not that they would ever tell anyone that was where the inspiration comes from.

It was fortunate that Serena, being the brilliant scientist that she is, decided to encrypt all her notes and breakthroughs in code that only she could decipher. She had always been paranoid about these things, and now it had paid off. The blueprints were useless, written in a language only understood by one mind.

She needed to arrange a meeting quickly. By now they would’ve realized they had been duped and if it were her, she knew that her next move would be to take the person who wrote it, or at the very least, someone close to them, then force them to translate it. She quickly made a call, increasing the protection levels of the trio and their families, then arranged for a holo meeting for that evening. They needed to be briefed.

________________

Miranda walked into _‘La Villa Reina.’_ A fondness washed over her at the memories. This was now her favorite restaurant. Was it because Alejandro’s steak technique was to die for, or because this was the first place she had met Andrea…who knows.

The waiter quickly took Miranda to her preferred table with Ainslie in tow. Even as she sat down, the smile tugged at her lips and she sighed wistfully. She was missing the brunette. Not that she would ever admit it out loud but…she really was missing her.

Ainslie watched the white haired editor’s eyes drift somewhere beyond this plane. From how she fiddled with the napkins and the yearning twinkle in her eyes. Ainslie would bet her prized horse that Miranda Priestly was in love or at the very least on her way down from the fall. She frowned this would be a problem _. ‘How serious was she about this mystery person? Could she be swayed away from their arms into the embrace of another?’_

She needed these answers, how else was she to start her plan? From the moment she had laid eyes on the editor, she knew that she would be perfect. She was everything she had hoped for, though a bit older than expected, it was hardly an issue. The way the editor carried herself, the way she spoke, the icy fire that thrummed under the surface beyond artic eyes. She had a feeling for these things you see. She knew Miranda would be a perfect match.

She only had to convince the woman to see that. To see that whoever had her affections now was a lesser person. They would never be perfect for her. As she watched the smile tug at the woman’s lips, for a split second, she felt guilty, She felt guilty that she was going to convince the other woman that her perfect match was not the person who so evidently had her ensnared. She wouldn’t force of course, but she would show her another path, and if the editor chose to go down the new path, then who was she not to help her along?

With a mind made up, Ainslie smiled. Miranda would thank her, for this. She wasn’t lying when she said that they would be great friends. She had sent off a text before they left Cataleya’s show so her plan should commence within a few moments.

The waiter came and took Miranda’s order. Ainslie feigned that she needed more time to peruse. _‘Where was she?!’_ her irritation mounted at the tardiness. Just as she snuck out her phone to send a very long, very irritated tirade to the recipient, she saw her walk in.

A smile bloomed on her lips, stretching across her face at the sight. Miranda frowned at the change in Ainslie’s countenance.

“Finally!” Ainslie called behind Miranda.

Andy slowed at the familiar coif of white hair with a frown. Miranda turned in her chair and met familiar amber eyes she had been missing. “Andrea, what are you doing here?”

“I-” Her frown deepened as she looked down into artic blue before raising, confusion evident on her face. “Mum, what are you doing in New York?”

Miranda snapped around wide-eyed, shock running through her. “Mum?” Her voice uncharacteristically squeaked. It all made sense now. Their eyes had the same usual shade amber, the same smile, damn it! They even had the same smirk. She was looking at what Andrea would look like in thirty years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. – B.S.
> 
> P.S. For anyone interested, follow me on tumblr. It's Bastesloan.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. Here’s another chapter, stay safe and I hope you enjoy. – B.S.

Miranda, meet Andy, my daughter.” Her mother laughed, airy and light. “See, I told you. There she is,” She nodded at the reddening brunette. “The perfect person for you.” She finished with a triumphant smirk.

Andy was stunned, Andy was shocked, Andy was completely and utterly mortified. She could hear her mother’s voice over the ringing in her ears.

No, scratch that. There had to be a word, a sound, something that could adequately encapsulate the feeling tearing through her. There just had to be. She stood there watching her mother wink at Miranda and wished with every fiber of her being that the ground would open and swallow her whole.

She had been on an overseas call with one of her overseers in South Africa when her private line wouldn’t stop pinging away. Finally, as the call came to a premature end, she looked down at the screen and shot right out of her chair. Her Mum was here. In the U.S. Now. With no warning or heads up. 

Yes, Andy loved her Mother to bits and pieces, but the older Duchess had a way of bringing up every embarrassing thing Andy had ever done, irrespective of the company, and from the twinkling of her eye, this time would be no different.

“Have a seat dearest.” She gestured for Andy to sit by Miranda. “I take it you two know each other?” She was practically buzzing in her seat.

“Ah…” The brunette cleared her throat and rubbed the back of her neck. “Miranda is, she’s the editor in chief of Runway-”

“I already know that, but how do-”

“It’s one of the publications under Elias-Clarke.” She rushed out, her eyes flickered to Miranda before returning to the similar amber.

Ainslie sat back in her chair for a moment, watching her daughter with the knowing gaze of a mother. She watched her usually calm — toeing the line of arrogant— daughter fidget like a prepubescent schoolgirl, her eyes flicker to the unknowing editor ever so often. She hummed in amusement, before speaking. “Is this why you were so quick to buy that company?” She nodded in understanding suddenly it all became clear. “Your father and I wondered about that.”

“I-what?! No! It was a cheap buy and a sound investment.”

“It was hemorrhaging money for years. If you were looking for a sound investment, you’d have bought it and sold it for parts, You’d have triple our returns with ease, that is what you normally do…but you chose to rebuild it.” She leaned over at her red-cheeked daughter. “Now I have an inkling as to why.” 

“I have no idea what you are talking about Mother.” Andy gritted out as her eyes begged her Mother to just please be quiet!

Ainslie was having none of that.

“Miranda, I think our Andy has a, what do you Americans say, a  _ crush _ on someone at Elias-Clarke.” She grinned cheekily.

“Mother please.” Andy's voice sounded strangled and in pain.

“Oh?” Miranda leaned forward and a sharp, yet mischievousness gleam in her eye. “Do tell.”

She hummed in delight. “When Andy was younger, whenever she fancied someone it was the most adorable thing. She would always try to get under their skin.”

“Does she now?” Miranda’s eyes narrowed at the squirming brunette.

“Yes!” Ainslie laughed. “I always thought it was to get their attention. Poor baby was always a bit shy.”

“Somebody kill me. Anybody, please.” Andy groaned as her mother continued.

“Shy, Andrea? I don’t believe it.” Miranda relished this side of the CEO who was making a valiant attempt at becoming one with her chair.

“Believe it. She always had an air of bluster and bravado, but believe me.” She winked. “Shy. But once she got into her head that she liked you. Ooh boy…” She laughed. “Once…” Her head tilted and her eyes were pensive as she continued. “She was in the sixth grade, I believe. She went to the house of a girl in her class then tried scaling the wall to her bedroom. What was her name again dearest?”

Andy mumbled under her breath.

“What?”

“Sarah McKenzie. Her name is Sarah McKenzie!”

“Yes! How could I have forgotten, poor darling here ended up in the hospital with a broken arm, leg and twenty stitches.”

“What were you thinking?” Miranda was incredulous.

“I had just finished Romeo and Juliet and I thought it would be romantic okay! Wasn’t my finest moment, I know.” She whined as Miranda’s eyes crinkled and her mouth pursed, not in anger but in a futile attempt to stop the laugh bubbling up.

“Does she do that regularly? Have crushes, and then make moronic decisions?”

“ _ She  _ is sitting right here, and I’ve only ever had a crush twice.” She turned to Ainslie. “ _ TWICE  _ mother!”

“If you say so dearest.” She patted her cheek before catching Miranda’s eye.

_ Yes! _ She had her hook, line and sinker! Clearly, she had to enthrall the woman, because all Andy seemed to be doing was deciphering the thread count of the table cloth. That was so weird and out of character for her. She had expected her daughter to step in and charm the editor right out of her exquisite Prada heels.

“So young Andy was a little Casanova. Colour me surprised.” Miranda smirked at the brunette.

“Don’t you start too Priestly-”

“I wonder who at Elias-Clarke has caught your eye. Tell us Andrea, who is your crush.” The words sounded strange coming from Miranda, but Andy was more focused on the knowing glint in the midst of the artic blue.

She narrowed her eyes at the amused editor. _ ‘Oh two could play at this game!’  _ She opened her mouth, with every intention of saying or doing something that would leave the silver haired woman stunned silence... when she felt  _ IT _ .

She felt a foot nudge her own. She stilled, her body was taunt like a bow about to fire, the very breath seized within her lungs. Her brows rose in incredulity.  _ \- What are you playing at _ _ , woman!? _

Miranda arched her right brow. - _ Whatever are you talking about? _

Andy's eyes narrowed _. - Oh really, you have no idea? _

Then, suddenly, there was no longer a barrier of Prada leather; instead, she felt the smooth texture of stocking. Andy nearly swallowed her tongue. The foot, the foot was rubbing gently up and down her ankle. Beside them Ainslie droned on, but she knew that something was up. The air around them had shifted, she just wasn’t sure what was the cause.

A smirk tugged at Miranda’s lips, her eyes a mixture of sultry and amused. – _Are you alright Andrea? You look a bit…parched._

Miranda Priestly, Editor in Chief of the world’s premiere fashion magazine, the leading icon on all things trendy and fabulous was not sitting in the most exclusive restaurant in New York, surrounded by all the who’s who of society and _her mother_ no less, playing, playing…footsie!?

Andy’s eyes narrowed as she tried her very best not to fall prey to Miranda’s advances. However, as Miranda’s foot rose to her shin, before slowly dragging back down, Andy felt her resolve weaken. She was damn near ready to fly a white flag when Miranda looked over at her under hooded eyes, biting her lower lip with that ‘come hither’ stare. She was gone before she knew what was happening. Miranda was coy yet she still managed to exude her very best _‘fuck-me’_ vibe and Andy was a pathetic foe against it.

Meanwhile, Miranda had returned her gaze to Ainslie, not once breaking stride in the conversation. The two laughed and chatted like old friends, and Miranda found herself truly enjoying the other woman’s company.

Not a peep was heard from their brunette lunch companion. When the Duchess finally looked at her daughter, pulling Miranda’s eyes along with her. The woman looked as though she had barely taken a breath since she sat down. Her eyes were dark, glassy and strained. Her cheeks were flushed, but not in the red of the embarrassment she had previously experienced. This was something else.

“Andy?” Ainslie tried getting her daughter to focus. “Miranda and I were talking earlier and guess what? It’s her birthday in a few days!” Clapping her hands in excitement, a  _ ‘cat that ate the canary’ _ smile stretched across her face. “I know what you should do, take her out dancing!”

Andy only released a strangled sound, both her mouth and brain was unable to form cognitive sentences, much less words.

Miranda stilled her ministrations at the unexpected idea masquerading as a demand. “That isn’t necessary I assure yo-”

“When was the last time you’ve been dancing love?”

Miranda wracked her brain, unable to come up with an answer. She knew it was long before the twins had been born, she just couldn’t pinpoint when. “I don’t remember actually.” She frowned at her own admission.

“See.” The Duchess said triumphantly, her eyes brimming with ulterior motive. “Every woman deserves to go dancing with a partner who… _ knows _ her body.”

“For god’s sake Mother.” Andy was beyond exasperation and was now contemplating ways to have her mother deported.

Miranda found herself suspended between a place of embarrassment and amusement. She turned to Andrea, who seemed to be slowly but surely regaining her senses. _‘Oh that won’t do.’_ She thought impishly, before trailing her foot higher, just so she could see the woman’s brain short circuit.

“Dearest, are you alright, you look a bit parched?” Confusion laced her mother’s voice, even more so when Miranda snorted, a low giggle breaking free, much to her very own shock.

_______________

Cristi strolled into the Penthouse with a pep in his step. He had announced Nigel to the world as his boyfriend. He had done it without much thought of the repercussions, but he wasn’t too overly concerned. Once his family was with him, nothing could hurt him, of this, he was certain. He had been caught up in his happiness, so what?

There was an absolute possibility that he had found the love of his life, someone to spend the rest of his days with, sue him for being too excited, especially when the other man seemed to be on the same page.

So, one Cristobal Benavente whistled as he entered the kitchen, fresh from his daily work out at the gym, running high off endorphins and the amazing feelings rushing through his heart, so much so that when he heard a sniffle coming from the corner of the room, he was momentarily stunned.

He closed the fridge, a bottle of water gripped in his hand and turned slowly. What he saw broke his heart and all his happy thoughts and cloud nine feelings evaporated into thin air. Serena sat in the little nook, overlooking the skyline, buried under a large plush blanket, only her eyes and nose poked out. She was sniffling away, having not noticed his presence. Her nose was red as blood and her eyes and her cheeks were wet and from the tuft of blonde that poked out, he’d say her hair was a matted mess.

He quickly drew his phone and sent out an emergency ‘CODE BLACK’ text to Andy before walking over to his sister.

“Bella?” He said quietly, his voice low and calm as if he were trying to coax a wounded wild animal.

She barely acknowledged him.

“Serena?’ He spoke with more force, trying to jar the woman from whatever thoughts she had locked herself in. He could hear Andy tearing through the house trying to find them. She had not too long ago returned from work and as she exited her town car, her phone had pinged with the emergency code. She flew through the doors and up the elevator without another thought.

“Cristi!” he heard her yell; but as she tore into the kitchen, she was drawn up short by the sight. “Oh babe.” She sighed at Serena’s state.

Cristi beckoned her to come closer as he neared the blonde. They both knew what this was about, but they refused to say anything…correction, they were both threatened to keep their mouths shut and their thoughts to themselves by a certain white haired editor, at least until the blonde came to them willingly. It didn’t take much convincing on Miranda’s part.

They knew the blonde. 

They knew how her mind worked and they knew that if they tried to force out anything she would just clamp up and leave it buried. No, they had to wait until she was ready, until she was comfortable enough to open up about whatever it was that was troubling her.

Serena sniffed again before turning to them. “She hates me, she hates me now and god guys, I fucking deserve it.”

“No Serena, I’m sure that’s not true.” Cristi soothed.

“You heard her, you know what I did; and even when, even when she tried to, I just-” A sob tore through her. “She tried so fucking hard and I just shut her down every single time in the worst ways.” The tears were streaming now. “I-I don’t blame her for hating me, for never wanting to see me again. I wouldn’t either.” The self-depreciation in her voice was so uncharacteristic that the two were left momentarily speechless.

“Babe, look. You can fix this. She clearly still loves you, if she was willing to forgive you and work it out, there had to have been something there.” Andy crooned as she sat beside the scientist and rubbed soothing patterns on her back.

“Si, Si, bella. I saw your Emily before she left. You hurt her yes, but instead of sitting here wallowing, you should be out there…” He kneeled down and held her hand. “…re-earning her trust, building back what you both had, making it stronger, better. You need to get her back, you clearly still love her.” He tucked a strand behind her ear. “We’ve never seen you like this and I know you’ve never felt like this about anyone. You need to fix this bella and sitting her won’t help.”

Andy looked at him, a smile on her lips and pride in her eyes. With a nod she spoke. “As shocking as it is, Cristi is right-”

“Hey!”

Serena snorted and Andy shot him a wink, her words having it’s desired effect.

“You need to go get your girl and we-” Her eyes took on a devilish gleam. “We are going to help you.”

___________________

“Could someone remind me why I allowed you to talk me into this again?” Serena looked down at the tuxedo they had forced her in. Though she would never admit it and prove her two idiots right, she did cut a dashing figure in Armani.

“Because you want your girl back and you’re not afraid to look stupid while doing it?” Andy offered with a cheeky grin as Serena’s head snapped around and her eyes narrowed in indignation. They both knew she looked anything but stupid.

Around them, the street below Emily’s apartment in SoHo was littered with hundreds of red Roses and Carnations, Emily’s favorite flowers. They had arranged for the street to be closed and yes it maybe, probably most certainly was not the legitimate way…nor was it legal…but it was for love! Or so Cristi and Andy said when Serena shot them the most infuriated _‘I’m going to murder you both!_ ’ stare when she learned of their…activities.

On the pavement, lit candles were outlined in the shape of a heart with the words ‘S + E’ in the middle. It was simple, well simple by theor standards; it wasn’t gaudy or too overly saccharine. Emily did have that stiff upper lip after all.

Behind her, Andy and Cristobal were also dressed in suits, standing still as they prepared to serenade the Brit into a puddle. With a grin and thumbs up the two began their parts. Andy strummed at the Spanish guitar; the sound was truly breathtaking as her skilled fingers danced effortlessly over the cords, releasing a truly hypnotic melody.

Cristi then began belting out the first verse of the most romantic, heart rendering Spanish love song ever sung. His voice deepened and was as smooth a velvet, as captivating as the sound of angels. When he sung the chorus, Andrea harmonized so spectacularly that it drew the ear of the Brit’s neighbours, never mind that it was one in the morning.

Andy then took the next verse, her voice sounded so beautifully broken contrite that some of the neighbors sniffed at the sound. Emily had yet to come to the window, but Serena knew she heard. The blonde could see the slight movement of a figure in the dark. She felt Cristi smack her shoulder, urging her on. She took a few deep breaths, psyching herself up.

She could do this!

“Emily?” She called out. There was no answer; there wasn’t even a flicker of light in through her window. Still Serena pushed through. “I know, I know I messed up, and I can’t just come here and ask for your forgiveness. But-” She swallowed. “You have to know, you have to know how much I love you baby.” Her voice broke at the end. “I never stopped. It has always and will always be you. I don’t care if you don’t want me, or if you don’t love me anymore, I just. I swear to you that I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, earning your trust again. Even if, even if I can only be your friend. It’ll be hard…I know that, but if the alternative is a life without you well…I can’t. That would, that would destroy me. But!” She rushed out. “If that’s what you want, for me to leave you alone, I will do it, I swear. I just, I want you to be happy baby.”

Everyone watching from their fire escape and windows, held their chests, some recording while others rubbed at their eyes.

“Come on Emily! Give the girl a chance, she’s dying out here!” Came a yell from one of the windows.

“If you don’t want her, I’ll take her!”

“Can I get that  _ fine _ piece of ass crooning like sex on legs!?” Someone yelled at Cristi who smirked and winked his voice never wavered once.

“Can I get your number gorgeous!?” Another yelled at Andy who grinned before she kissed after the now blushing woman.

“Emily please!” Her neighbor yelled.

“Hey! As much as I appreciate the support can you all be quiet! I don’t want her to feel pressured.” The noise began lowering until the only thing that remained was Andy and Crist’s voice. “Emily, I realized I never said it but…I’m so sorry, so fucking sor-”

“Mi amor!” Cristi was bent almost to his knees, the feeling of the song overtaking him and for a second he was carried away. “Mi amor!” He sang even louder, pushing past Serena.

“Psst Cristi!” Andy whisper yelled. “Get your arse back here!” She reached for him, but he stealthily evaded her grasp.

Serena pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration before grabbing the Spaniard by the gruff of his collar and pulling him behind her. Andy stopped playing to smack him upside the head.

“Lo siento, lo siento. I feel the passion of the song si?’

While the three took a moment to bicker, the sound of cheering froze them. When they turned back to the apartment building, Serena felt like crying. The light in Emily’s apartment had flickered on and Serena had never felt such relief.

A low laugh wafted through the windows as the red head opened them and perched on the ledge, looking down at them with slightly disbelieving eyes.

“Tell me something Serena. Do the three of you ever do anything the easy way?” Her voice was laced with amusement and the blonde felt an easy smile tug at her lips.

“Never.” She moved closer to the building. “I meant what I said. I’m so sorry and I, I love you…so much I-”

“You hurt me.” Her words weren’t angry or biting and somehow that made all the more worse.

Serena felt her throat close up. “I don’t know how I can ever make it up to you…but I want to, I want to try baby, so fucking much. Please let me try. I’m so sorry.”

“I know.” Emily’s eyes were tender. After a moment of tense silence as Serena and the whole damn neighbourhood waited in bated breath, Emily sighed. A sort of sigh that seemed to wash away the frustration and pain. It was deep and cleansing. “I know. Let’s, let’s take this slow, rebuild that trust and see where it goes from there.”

“I’ll take it!” She almost jumped out of her clothes in excitement. A laugh of relief and joy, so much joy tore through her. “You have no idea-” She shook her head with a grin before looking up. “You won’t regret this, I swear it.”

“You better.” Emily shot her a cheeky grin and as Serena opened her mouth to respond, the wails of sirens could be heard in the distance.

“Oh we need to go.” Andy rushed out, grabbing at Serena’s lapels. “Like right now! Move!”

Serena’s eyes were riveted to her redhead beauty, the one who captured her mind. Body and soul. She barely heard Andy’s murmurings.

The sirens were getting louder, within moments it would all be over.

“Serena! Fuck! Cristi grab her and let’s go!” Andy yelled as Cristi ran and threw Serena over his shoulder like a rag doll before they shot down the street.

Serena’s eyes never once left the hunter greens of her wide-eyed maiden fair.

_________________

**_RIOT CLUB SPOTTED IN SOHO?_ **

_ Everyone knows New York is the City that never sleeps my dear readers, but the famed ‘Riot Club’ known for always getting into delicious trouble across Europe, took this quite literally. In the wee hours of the morning our sources have informed us that the trio were spotted in SoHo serenading an unknown woman with a street filled with flowers and candles. Can you feel the envy just pouring from me New York? _

_ Because I just about wept when the drop dead gorgeous Lord Cristobal Benavente declared that Runway’s fabulous Nigel Kipling was his paramour, his lover...his, dare I say it? Boyfriend! Now that the second Rioteer, Dr. Serena Van Visser, future Countess of Heusden, renowned scientist and all around gorgeous badass -seriously, she could moonlight as a supermodel- was at the forefront of the serenade declaring her undying love?  _

_ Well let’s just say the world now has its eyes on the final and thankfully single Rioteer. Who will snatch up the philanthropist, mogul, playgirl Lady Andrea Sachs? Stay tuned my dear readers! _

Ainslie threw her head back and laughed as she read this morning’s issue of page six, but she had to agree with them on one thing. Who would snatch up her commitment challenged, elusive daughter? She wanted her Andrea to settle down, to find stability, not only for herself but also for her precious boys. It was most unfortunate that her daughter took after her during her younger...wilder and extremely scandalous days. 

Now she has tasked herself to help Andrea, even if Miranda wasn’t ‘the one’ though her gut feeling told her she was, she needed to help Andrea and surprisingly, she found herself wanting to help Miranda too. Who would have thought?

___________________

Andy stood in front of the mirror, well dressed and looking spectacular. It was Miranda’s birthday and she intended to honour her mother’s request. She was going to take the editor out dancing. She wanted a partner who knew her body? Well then, Andy was definitely her woman. That morning, they had woken Miranda to breakfast in bed and a trove of gifts that Andy had helped the children pick out. Some they had used all their little allowance saving for and others Andy had bought for them to gift the editor.

Andy knew Miranda was pleased. When she sat up in bed, hair tousled and wild, her cheek had flushed but her eyes had preened at the attention. She loved it and Andy loved giving it to her. Azza had crawled into her lap and presented his Fairy Queen with his homemade macaroni necklace and the picture he had spent hours working on, sitting around his little desk, tongue stuck out the side as he concentrated, it had to be perfect for his Fair Queen. But of course Azza was still a baby, and his work reflected his tender age, yet Miranda looked at it as if she were gifted with a Picasso and the most expensive designs from Tiffany’s or Harry Winston.

Azza was over the moon, his little chest puffing out in pride when Miranda gushed over his work. Andy was completely smitten, (the idiot just didn’t know it yet.) Next was Ducky. The boy much like his brother adored the very ground the editor walked on. 

After she had started taking some evenings to mentor him, there was no greater person in his eyes…other than his family of course…but still. He pulled out two plastic encased items from the gift bag and handed them to her reverently. The first was the rarest and the hardest to find.

When her son had approached her with the idea, they had done some extensive research, and hired a few people to track down their prize. It was the very first issue of Runway magazine, circa 1934 in perfect condition. It was priceless, it was amazing, and she was overwhelmed.

He then handed her the next gift. It was her very first Runway issue as editor in chief, circa 1990. She was stunned speechless. They had gotten all Miranda’s favorite designers to sign it and as she recognized the five signatures, she felt her throat close up.

Then when she thought his gift couldn’t get any better, he handed her a copy of Vogue, perfectly minted and preserved. When she saw it, and the impish grin he sported, she threw her head back and laughed. It was the September issue of 2013, Vogue’s worst issue yet. Anna had been mortified when the magazine had hit the shelves and the public had recoiled in horror. She grinned at him as his smile turned into a smirk. They were both thinking the same thing. ‘ _ Take that Vogue!’ _

Then it was her babies. Her precious Bobbseys. The two had seen the bracelet in an artisanal jewelry shop in Italy almost a year ago and in that moment, they knew they had to get it for their Mom. So the two had saved away, not letting a single penny waste as they neared their goal. It wasn’t just any old bracelet.

It was made from the finest white gold, the body of a spirally dragon, its eyes the deepest sapphire that matched their mother’s and from its mouth an almost realistic blue flame. The detail was intricate, the design was breathtaking and they fell in love with it.

It was a message to their mother. Yes, the world might call her a dragon, but they were proud of her. They were of everything she has ever accomplished, every battle she has ever waged and won, even sometimes on the rare occasion lost. They were proud to call Miranda Priestly, the Devil in Prada, the Ice Queen, the Dragon of Fashion, they were proud to call her Mom and they wanted her to always know that.

“Oh Bobbseys.” She gasped when she saw it.

“Well you are going to need something blue.” Caroline grins cheekily before Charles elbows her.

“What was that?”

“I said it’s blue! Your favorite colour!”

The meaning behind it was clear and the editor teared up once more.

Andy remembers catching her eyes, a gentle smile on her lips as she winked at the woman who smiled back slightly. She hadn’t given Miranda her gist, she could tell that the woman was overwhelmed and needed a moment to process, so she had corralled their little group out the room and left the editor to pull herself together. 

Now here she was, preparing to go out, it had taken much coaxing from her and her mother to convince Miranda to go out with her. To make the woman feel more at ease she had roped in Cristi, Nigel, Emily and Serena to join them. Ainslie was to stay at the Penthouse to spend time with her babies as she had taken to calling the four.

Andy walked out of her room and moved down the hall, ready to knock on Miranda’s door when it swung open, ridding Andy of all thought and reason. The woman was dressed to kill. That was the only thing Andy could even think of. Miranda was dressed with the sole purpose of inducing heart attacks. That was the only reasonable explanation for the why the woman was dressed like sex manifested in human form.

Miranda’s eyes skimmed up and down the brunette and she felt the heat within her begin to burn. Andy looked absolutely sinful and all Miranda wanted to do was pull her into the room and have Andy ravish her senselessly and when she finished doing that…she would have her do it again.

“Why are we leaving the house again?” Her voice was low.

“Because it’s your birthday and I want to take you out.” She moved closer to the woman until they were pressed up against each other. “You look…absolutely breathtaking. Tell me something. Do you hate me so much that you would try killing me with that dress? Because fuck... Miranda…” Her voice lowered an octave and her eyes darkened. Miranda felt her breath hitch. “You slay me.” She moved to crash their lips together, but Miranda jerked out of the way.

“You insist on us leaving the house instead of staying and doing more...  _ pleasurable things _ in bed so,” Her voice dropped an octave before she continued. “You’ll do without.” She grinned when she heard Andrea curse. She leaned forward and pressed a full hard kiss against the brunette’s throat, her lipstick remained behind, bold and evident for all to see. Miranda had effectively claimed her and Andy was seriously reconsidering the plan. “If that’s still there by the end of the night, well I just might have a present for you later.”

“Isn’t it your birthday?” Andy breathed against Miranda's lips.

“Oh darling believe me, if you play your card right, it’ll be my birthday wish that comes through.” She brushed her nose against Andrea’s then ghosted her lips over hers.

When the woman hungrily leaned in for more contact, Miranda sidestepped and was down the hall in second. Leaving Andrea behind, trying to kiss air and again swearing under her breath.

“I knew it. That woman is trying to kill me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. – B.S.
> 
> P.S. For anyone interested, follow me on tumblr. It's Bastesloan.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. Here’s another chapter, stay safe and I hope you enjoy. – B.S.

“Come on, they’re already there waiting on us.” Andy groaned in frustration for the umpteenth time as Miranda stood in front of the floor length mirror in the hall ‘fixing’ her already perfect lipstick.

“You can’t rush perfection Andrea.” Miranda sniffed with an arch of her brow. “What was that?” She turned to the woman who was mumbling under her breath.

“I  _ said _ , you’re already perfect, so can we please just  _ go _ ?” She stalked towards the editor, wrapped her hands around her waist and pulled her. “I will throw you over my shoulder and carry you down if I have to.”

“You will certainly do no such thing.” Miranda drew back, scandalized at the prospect.

“Then move your arse woman!”

Andy would never admit it but her urgency had more to do with getting through the night so that she could have the editor all to herself and less of keeping their friends waiting.

_________________

“Is this some sort of joke?” Miranda’s brows had raised and disbelief coloured her words.

“What?” Andy barely turned around from pulling Miranda by the arm through the throng of people littering the extremely busy and hot dining room.

When the car had initially dropped them here, Miranda was sure there had been some mistake and prepared herself to verbally eviscerate the driver for his incompetence. Clearly, the moron had gotten the address wrong and now they were delayed once more, but when the brunette gingerly got out of the car and turned with an outstretched hand to assist the editor…well, she was left gaping at the monstrosity before her.

The building was dilapidated, though it was clearly being held together by sheer force of will and hope and prayers. That was the only explanation for why it was still standing. The windows were cracked and there was not a single flicker of light visible from the outside. The construction resembled something from one of those horror movies she had banned the girls from watching after they had refused to sleep in their own rooms for almost a week.

Certainly, Andrea wasn’t thinking of…speaking of which, the woman took her by the hand, a pleased smile on her face and pulled her to the entrance and through the doors. So, here she was, surrounded by what looked to be some sort of meat mart coupled with a cook shop, dressed in the finest Valentino. Her ire was mounting, but neither Andrea or the other…patrons seemed to notice. They walked through the room with ease and down a barely lit, very sketchy, very serial killer themed hallway.

“You know Andrea, I was promised dancing. If you had dastardly plans for me, the least you could have done was to do it somewhere more…aesthetically pleasing...and not on my birthday.”

Andrea threw a grin over her shoulder. “Only Miranda Priestly would complain about the aesthetic of her murder scene.”

She huffed at the amusement in Andrea’s voice. So, the woman was intent on not explaining what the seven hells was going on then. “Well, if murdering me is on the agenda at the very least refrain from offending my sensibilities.”

Andrea’s fingers tightened around hers as a laugh rang out and echoed through the halls.

Miranda looked at the darkness behind her warily.

“Come on Priestly, don’t wuss out on me now.”

Miranda tightened her fingers around Andrea to an almost painful degree.

In response, Andrea brought the hand up and pressed a kiss against it. “Save that strength for the monsters.” She said with a wink as Miranda rolled her eyes.

Within moments, they closed in on a steel door that Andy banged on twice and like some Mafioso movie, the peephole was pulled to the side and a pair of brown eyes narrowed at them. “Password?”

“Good grief.” Miranda snorted at the cliché of it all. “Really Andrea?”

“Hey lighten up a little.” She gently bumped the editor’s shoulder before fishing out a black card and flashed the doorman.

Nodding in approval, the man slammed the peephole shut before turning what seemed to be multiple locks and chains, and then he opened the door with a flourish.

“Welcome to Moonshine.” He began with a wide smile. “Leave all your devices and your coat with the attendant.”

Miranda frowned at this and shot Andrea a questioning look.

“I have a friend who is completely obsessed with the prohibition era.” She said while tugging off her own coat. “He swears he was born in the wrong century…” She moved to assist Miranda. “…so a few years ago he decided to open this  _ ‘speakeasy’ _ ” She grinned as she handed over their phones. “As much of a nutter he is, he really does know how to throw a party, believe me. He fancies himself the Jay Gatsby type.”

“And our phones? What if there is an emerg-”

“Relax Priestly. The attendant will make sure we get every call and the children are fine. Mum is with them so the only thing you have to worry about is their sugar crash tomorrow.” She turned, pulling as she walked backwards.

Miranda could hear the music pumping from beyond the foyer. The energy pulsing from within buzzed at her and already she could feel herself relaxing, the tension draining from her body, only to be replaced by curiosity and excitement. When the attendant drew the curtains back to allow them entrance, she stood there in shock, mingled with awe.

It was everything she had expected of a party from a man ‘who fancied himself the Jay Gatsby type.’ On one side of the room a live band…or orchestra would be the better word, literally shook the room with their sound. A woman and her backup singers stood not far from them, revving up the crowd with her electric, hypnotic voice.

The party was a grand display of indulgence and luxury. There were acrobats swinging from the ceiling and streamers and flowers pouring down unto the glitterati that was dancing and laughing the night away.

“See. I told you the nutter knew how to throw a party.” She grinned next to Miranda’s ear who then turned to her with a slight tilt of the lips. “Come on!” The brunette yelled over the music while backing away.

Once again, Andrea moved towards Miranda, an arm wrapped around her, a hand gently resting at the small of her back, so low that if she moved a finger it would be borderline indecent, but Miranda didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she had caught herself preening under the touch and had to stop herself just short of purring like some contented house cat.

She maneuvered them through the crowd, but every few minutes someone would stop them with an excited yell. Desperately wanting to talk or engage with the aristocrat and the fashion icon. So far Miranda has recognized various ‘A’ list actors and actresses, quite a number of musicians and even more high ranking politicians and old money, a lot of old money.

Andy tugged her closer, whispering amusing little tidbits in her ear while whoever stopped them prattled on and on about something or the other. Miranda found herself viciously fighting the laugh that bubbled up whenever Andrea would whisper something cheeky before grinning and winking at her. More than once, she almost choked on her Champagne when the Governor of somewhere – she hadn’t been paying attention – told her about how much he wanted to reform the schooling system in his state.

To be fair, Andrea had been whispering about how he had been found in bed with his wife’s sister…and brother …at the same time, by said wife and had to run out butt naked onto the front lawn when said wife threatened to light him on fire. Still, thanks to a whole lot of payoffs and PR spinning, the story never made it out.

Miranda guffawed at the thought of the heavily overweight governor, hightailing it in his birthday suit and that coupled with the mischievous glint in Andrea’s eyes…well who could’ve blamed her. The man eyed her quizzically as Andy steered her away to their rather rambunctious table.

“You’re finally here! We’ve been waiting forever!” Cristobal yelled with a slight slur.

Laughing Andrea ruffled his hair. “Well someone started without us.”

“Me! I started without us!” He grinned widely as Andy shot an exasperated Nigel an amused grin.

“Those two.” She gestured to Emily who was on the dance floor grinding away as Serena. “…have been taking shots since we came. Serena and I are the only functioning ones now.” The bald man rolled his eyes fondly when Cristi moved to press a wet kiss to his cheek.

“Look at him Andy.” Cristi grinned as he wrapped his arms around the slightly blushing older man. “Isn’t he just the cutest?”

The two muffled their laughs at Nigel’s evident embarrassment, which seemed to have flown right over the Spaniard’s head.

“That he is Cristi.” Andy winked at the mortified art director.

“Oh Miranda! Andy’s lady love!”

“Cristobal!” What is with the people in her life trying to embarrass her in front of the editor?

Ignoring her, he rose to his feet and reached for Miranda’s hand. “Feliz cumpleaños Hermosa.” He said with a flourish and pressed a kiss to her hand then her cheek.

Miranda had seen the younger man in passing from time to time, but he was seldom at the Penthouse anymore so there had been little time for them to meet properly. As her eyes raked up his body, that looked as though he had been poured into his suit like fine wine, one thing she was certain of: Nigel was very lucky indeed. “Why thank you Cristobal.”

“Stop ogling my brother or you’ll hurt my feelings.” Andy’s voice was dry as Cristobal preened under the attention.

“He is quite beautiful.” Miranda smirked.

“Leave her be Andy. She is a genius, she knows these things, si?” His cheeks were flushed with the alcohol but his eyes hadn’t lost the sharp glint of coherence.

“Okay enough of whatever this is.” Andy pulled Miranda’s hand from Cristi then stuck her tongue out at him when the editor’s back was turned.

“I saw that.” Miranda’s voice was low and amused.

“Wha…I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

She fixed the brunette with a stare that screamed, _‘Oh really?’_

“Ugh.” She groaned. “Fine. I’m sorry.”

“Whipped!” Cristobal coughed out as Nigel threw his head back and laughed.

Andy took up a napkin off the table and threw it at Cristi’s curls, who expertly caught it. “Andy you have something on your…” He leaned over to Andy’s neck with the napkin and as the cloth neared skin, panic seized the woman and she smacked his hand so hard it stunned them both. They stood there, staring at each other wide eyed and shocked for what seemed like hours until Cristi finally attempted to speak. “Wha-”

“Nothing!” She rushed out and quickly stepped back, her hand covering the remnant of Miranda’s mark. She hadn’t forgotten the editor’s promise and she’d be damned if she wasn't able to cash in on it.

Cristi’s eyes narrowed in intrigue. There was definitely a story to suss out.

Pulling a chair out for the editor, Andy waited until she sat then went to her own. Not long after Emily and Serena returned to the table where proper introductions were made and within moments there was an easy conversation flowing. Serena and Miranda got on unsurprisingly quickly, engaging in a wide selection of topics that had the other in awe of their own knowledge. Cristobal, Emily and Nigel pumped the fun into the conversation and coupled with the steady flow of top shelf alcohol, Miranda was having the most fun in years.

Andy bantered and laughed with her pseudo siblings and their ‘better’ halves but after a while, she realized that her mind was unable to focus on the conversation properly. She had become acutely aware of even the slightest touch and now her body was zoning in on Miranda’s fingers…the low heat of her skin. She felt as though everything around her had turned to static. Nonsensical noise that was drowned out by her mind’s fixation on the steady rise and fall of the editor’s chest.

Her senses had heightened to an intensity that was almost painful. It was if there was no pounding music or booming laughter around her. Instead she was overwhelmed with every breath Miranda took, the gradual darkening of her eyes, the flush of her skin as a beautiful stole incarnadine over it.

Miranda watched in rapt attention as the effect of her proximity took hold of her younger lover. She watched how Andrea’s breath became shallow, how her throat bobbed. The woman was staring ahead, as if her life depended on it. She knew that if she turned to face Miranda, there would be nothing stopping her from taking her right here and now.

So to save them both the potential embarrassment –well Miranda more so than her, it took more than that to embarrass one Andy Sachs–she steeled her jaw and tried her utmost to focus on the conversation going on around them.

Miranda would have none of that. She would not be ignored…not when Andy looked down right sinful and sported the sexiest determination she had ever witnessed. She sat back in her chair, her attention no longer on the others as amusing as they were.

To her shock, she saw Andrea flushing under Miranda’s scrutiny before the younger girl swore under her breath then saddled closer to Miranda, stretching behind before resting her arm on the back of Miranda’s chair. Her fingers grazed the back of the editor’s neck and Miranda felt the hairs raise in excitement.

Miranda’s eyes fluttered as her body became acutely aware of the small contact between them. The feeling of the blunt nails gently trailing across her skin, the feel of the pad of Andrea’s thumb brushing against the now sensitive flesh. Miranda’s breath grew labored, the intensity of her emotions barreling through her was staggering.

The sensation pooling within her was enough to be embarrassing.  _ ‘She is only touching your neck damn it! Get it together!’  _ She mentally yelled at herself when her body seemed determined to take a bind of its own.  _ ‘A traitor, that’s what it was!’ _

Around them, the music slowed to a sensual beat and it spurred Andy into action. Moving even closer to the recipient of her affections, she murmured in her ear. “Dance with me.” Her voice dropped an octave and her eyes lowered to full dark red lips.

“Lead the way.” Miranda husked as Andrea pulled her up and pressed her body flush against hers.

Without a backwards glance at their amused friends, the two drifted pass bodies into the center of the dance floor. Their breaths were millimeters apart, mingling as their lips were in grazing distance yet they did not touch. They were wrapped around each other, bodies so close, it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. Their hands roamed to uncharted territory, leaving a blaze of heat in its wake.

Soon they were joined by Cristobal and Nigel, Serena and Emily. The slow music swirled around them, like a thread binding them beyond this plane. Miranda rested her head against Andy’s chest, as the younger woman swayed them around. The violins came in, then the piano, and then the slow and sure beating of a drum.

Miranda was ensnared.

She was hypnotized.

She knew this was where she belonged, forever in these arms. She looked up in tender amber eyes and felt the urge to weep. To pull the woman closer and refuse to let her go with everything in her being.

Andy trailed her thumb across Miranda’s cheek, riveted to artic blue eyes. The brunette must have seen something in the beautiful depths because a gentle smile pulled at the corner of her lips before she closed the distance between them. Her mouth molded over hers, it wasn’t a fight for dominance, it wasn’t even a kiss for the sole purpose of sex.

Instead, on that night, in dimly lit ‘speakeasy’ somewhere in New York City Lady Andrea Sachs of Westminster and Miranda Priestly, editor-in-chief of Runway magazine, fell completely and irrevocably in love…they just didn’t know it yet.

______________

The night had ended like any other night filled with drinks, dancing and questionable decisions. Sprawled face first, in what was hopefully a familiar living room, surrounded by the unconscious bodies of one’s friends in various stages of undress and the beating of a hangover. As Miranda peered through bleary eyes, her mouth tasted like death and her head pounded something fierce.

She would kill the brunette, of that she was sure…she just had to wait until her body didn’t feel like she had been run over by an eighteen wheeler then thrown in a swamp. She peered around, eyes squinting at the brightness of the midday sun and recognized Nigel’s apartment.

Good.

She then noticed that Andrea was wrapped around her like a second skin on the couch. By the couch on the ground, Serena and Emily were huddled together, the red head, clutching Serena in one and hand and an empty bottle of Cognac in the other. It seemed they had returned to the apartment and drank some more. She groaned as her memory returned in bits and pieces.

She had flashes of them taking shot after shot, drink after drink. She was sure at one point Emily had been dancing on the bar counter and had to be removed by security, much to Andy and Cristi’s delight. She had another flash of them all stumbling from the ‘speakeasy’ sometime in the wee hours, running from the paparazzi down the street before she declared that she was hungry and wanted–her stomach seized at the memory–McDonald’s? Oh god, yes it was McDonald’s and she was properly mortified.

They had gorged themselves on greasy junk food. The trio took pleasure in the fact that their aristocratic counterparts had never had any before. Now Cristi was hooked on chicken nuggets and she’s pretty sure she could sway Andy with a McChicken.

Though the Runwayers hadn’t had junk in years, that didn’t stop them from going all out and that they did…even Emily who seemed to have been on a perpetual diet, broke her ‘sacred’ vows and gorged herself on French fries, much to Serena’s amusement and delight. In her peripheral she spotted Nigel spread eagle on his back not far from them with Crist’s head resting comfortably on his stomach.

They all looked a mess.

They all looked like they had the time of their lives.

They all looked content in the arms of the people they lo-…they all looked content.

Miranda quickly closed her eyes, blotting out the sunlight by burying her face in Andrea’s neck and within moments, she was fast asleep.

_______________

It had been a few days and it was safe to say that Miranda was still recovering from her birthday celebration. Emily was still wearing sunglasses inside and after seeing that the white of the woman’s eyes matched her hair…well let’s just say that Miranda couldn’t fault the fashion choice.

She was in a snippy mood. She did have fun and did enjoy herself but after the Riot Club had woken up with bright smiles, tearing through the hangover with ease. Apparently, they were _‘used to it’_ or so they claimed when Nigel and Emily had balked at the betrayal.

As she rounded her desk, she drew up short with a frown. On her chair was a package wrapped in a black paper bag.

“Emily?” The girl was inside the office within seconds, pen and notepad at the ready. “Why was I not made aware that a package was sent to me?”

“Package Miranda?” Emily was confused. She had been at her desk all day and no delivery person came up. Well she did step away for a second to go to the loo, but that took ten minutes tops and the second assistant hadn’t mentioned anything. “I didn’t know about it either.” She approached the editor. “Were you expecting something?”

“No.” She said absently, and then waved her hand. “Go get me the spreads from accounting and the mock up from the art department.”

“Yes Miranda.” Emily nodded and turned to leave.

“And close my door on the way out.” She whispered without turning around.

With narrowed eyes, Miranda approached the package and took it. There was no return address. When she flipped it over, the other side was blank save for one thing–in the center, almost twice the size of a quarter was a sigil. A sigil of an open palm outlined with white lines and runes intertwine across it. With a confused frown, she tore into the paper wrapping.

_______________________

The room was silent.

The trio were pensive and lost in thought as Director Matalon relayed her team’s findings from the holo emitters.

_ ‘It’s too dangerous.’ _

_ ‘The risk factor is too high.’ _

_ ‘We don’t know all the variables yet.’ _

_ ‘Cancel the launch or at least postpone it for the foreseeable suture.’ _

The sentences were thrown at them from their ATLAS advisors. Matalon wanted to uncover whatever plot was lurking and root out the arseholes responsible before allowing the trio to expose themselves. Unfortunately, they were having none of that.

“This technology, it needs to get out there.” Andy had enough.

“Andy, you need to listen to us. You know what a threat the tech would be if some arsehole with the wrong intentions get his hands on it. What then? An entire city wiped out in a few hours? Countries using it as a new form of war? It’s too great. The risk is too great.” Matalon gritted at her stubborn goddaughter.

“Do you have any idea the good this could do?” Serena rose to her feet, ready to defend the most important work she’d ever done. “We can grow crops without soil or water, we’d feed millions!” She tried to make them understand. “We’d clean the oceans and within a decade plastic pollution and chemical spills would be a thing of the past. Hell, give me few years and I’ll have this fucking thing fixing the ozone. We need to do this! Fuck those arseholes who are trying to ruin this, I’ll put better encryptions and fail safes but we are not delaying this.”

Again, the room grew silent at Serena who was red in the face. The woman seldom loses her temper but when she does? All hell would pay.

“I agree with Serena.” Cristi finally spoke. “The good this can do, definitely outweighs the risk. If we postpone out of fear of it getting into the wrong hands, well,” He sighed in frustration. “It would never launch. Now I’m not saying we’ll be naïve about this and disregard your assessment. But I’m trusting that we can all work together, move faster and smarter, catch those bastards and still launch in time before the Climate Change Conference. Serena will amp up the fail-safes to prevent any tampering or unauthorized use.”

The blonde nodded in confirmation.

“I think we’ve responded.” Andy leaned back in her chair, rubbing at her brows. “We’re pushing through. Do whatever you need to do and we’ll do our part.”

Matalon sighed in frustration. She could understand why they refused to kill the project, at least for now. If she had the means to combat and beat world hunger and climate change, she would like to think that nothing could stop her either. So, they were right, they would do their parts and she would do hers. Protect their arses and safeguard their projects, be the shield to their sword.

“Fine, fine. We’ll take care of it.”

“I have complete faith in you.” Andy offers her a tired smile.

“One more thing.” Matalon called out before they signed off.

“Hmm?” Cristi asked.

“A similar package, like the one sent to Dr. Burkenheim, was sent to the States a few days ago.”

Andy leaned forward, her eyes narrowed. “Who was it sent to?”

“We’re working on the specifics. We only know that it was mailed to a New York address. I’ll have your guards doubled down and let you know when we have anything.” And with that she was off.

“Well fuck.” Cristi plopped himself into his chair.

“My sentiments exactly.” Serena countered wearily.

____________________

Charles had been a student of Dalton for approximately a week now and he was far from impressed. The only saving grace was attendance of his two favorite redheads... and the fact that they had football. The proper kind and not the _‘Rugby for pussies!’_ as his Uncle Cristi had taken to calling it. His Mum had smacked him upside the head when she saw that Ducky had been there, but the boy had already heard it and he completely agreed. 

He had also met some interesting people but a majority were vapid social climbers or narcissistic old money. He’d had enough of those in Europe who had tried to schmooze up to him for what he was rather than who he is.

Unsurprisingly, Caro and Cass were social butterflies even though they mostly kept to themselves but the school seemed to adore them. Now that a proper aristocrat had joined their ranks? They were now the ‘It’ group of the school. He’d even heard one student ask if they were the Riot Club junior and if he could join. He scoffed. Of course they were and of course he couldn’t!

He was being snotty, but others thought it was solely about the partying, the travelling and the ‘fabulous’ life. He knew better, and so did Caro and Cass. It was about family. Plain and simple, nothing complicated to it. _‘Platonic soulmates,’_ Aunt Rena had once called it and looking over at the two bickering red heads, he couldn’t agree more.

They were sprawled out on the lawn, he had practice in a few minutes, Caro had swimming and Cass had art lessons. So they were just basking in the sun enjoying a few minutes reprieve before getting back into it.

________________

Across town, little Azza was on his way from his private music lessons and was now heading back to school for fencing. His driver, Micheal, a sweet older man with grey growing at his temples was singing along at the top of his voice with his charge to the latest album for kids that the young lord absolutely adored. His security was driving in the car in front.

It truly was a beautiful day. The sky was clear, the sun offered a warm glow. Laughter and childish glee filled the interior of the armoured SUV.

Everything was perfect.

Azza threw his toy rocket in the air, gleefully awaiting its descent, when the world slowed around them. It was the screech of tires against asphalt and the wail of horns beeping around him in warning that drew Michael’s eyes from the road to his driver’s window. By then, it had already been too late, his reflexes not fast enough, fate not kind enough.

The car flipped so many times that he was disoriented, his mind spinning before his head cracked against the steering wheel and the seat belt tore at his skin. Within moments, he was drifting in and out of consciousness. The taste of blood filled his mouth and he could vaguely hear the sound of a screaming child before there was silence from the back seat.

_ ‘Azza!’ _ he tried yelling but his mouth wouldn’t work.

The sickening noise of metal crushing against concrete as the vehicle continued to roll was almost deafening. The airbags sprung free but deflated easily by the piercing of shrapnel. He tried, he tried so hard to reach behind him before his body finally gave out and everything…everything faded to black.

_________________

Andy felt confused, a sense of dread flooded her and she wasn’t sure why. She had just stepped off the lift and she could see Miranda stepping into the lobby, probably on her way back from a run through with a designer. Her Prada sunglasses firmly perched on her nose and her faux coat dangling attractively from her body. An easy smile stole over the brunette’s face but it did little to quell her unease.

She noticed immediately when the phones of the two guards by her side began ringing incessantly, their comms were lit up and flashing like Christmas lights. She felt her stomach bottom out when her Chief guard came running into the lobby with a flock of guards, her face ashen as sweat dripped from her temples. Around them, the lobby stilled, waiting to hear the reason for the commotion.

Even Miranda who had been rattling off a list of instructions to Emily went quiet.

“Secure the Castle!” The Chief snapped to three of the men around her before approaching the rigid aristocrat.

Andy’s jaw was clenched, her hands fisted and her back was ramrod straight.

“Who?”

The woman reached out to her but thought better of it. “It’s Azza my Lady.” She swallowed but refused to break eye contact. “We need to get you to the hospital right now.”

Andy barely heard the woman, the roaring in her ears drowned out everything. She couldn’t move and the breath turned to ice in her lungs. It was the feeling of someone pulling her up that made her realize she had fallen to her knees.

Miranda felt her heart clench the minute the words left the woman’s lips, her mind was reeling, but the moment Andrea fell to her knees, her eyes staring out but unseeing, lifeless spurred her into action.

“Emily, get Cristobal and Serena have them meet us at…?”

“Presbyterian.” The Chief supplied quickly.

“Done.” Emily was off in flash.

Miranda then moved in front of Andrea, pulling her up. When the woman made no attempt to get up, she threw her Ice Queen persona to the wind and knelt down in front of the younger woman. Gripping her head firmly between her hands, she attempted to focus the woman’s gaze on her.

“Andrea!” She shook her and called again. “Andrea!” The woman’s gaze shifted to her and Miranda sighed in relief before gently pressing her forehead against hers. “Azza needs us darling.” She whispered. “We need to go.”

Andy reached up and gripped the editor’s hand before taking a deep breath and nodding. The two then rose to their feet and were out of Elias Clark within moments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. – B.S.
> 
> P.S. For anyone interested, follow me on tumblr. It's Bastesloan.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. Here’s another chapter, stay safe and I hope you enjoy. – B.S.

Miranda felt the roll of anxiety move throughout her body, the only thing anchoring her was the painfully tight grip Andrea had on her hand. The brunette was clutching so fiercely that the editor’s digits had long gone numb, but she refused to pull free. The slight pain kept her focused, kept her sharp. As a mother, she knew exactly what was rushing through the aristocrat’s mind. Every worst possible scenario, prayers of pleading and finally white-hot vengeance on all those who caused her baby pain.

The town car maneuvered through the evening traffic as though the devil were on its tail. She was sure the driver had broken multiple traffic laws, but in that moment, she couldn’t bring herself to care. All that mattered was getting to her Azza right now. She spied Andrea from her peripheral. The woman had yet to say anything since Miranda had forcibly pulled her to her feet and pushed her into the car. It worried the editor how dead Andrea’s eyes seemed, so focused, yet unseeing, unfeeling. Her jaw was tense and it was evident that her teeth were clenched.

Ever so often the hand that gripped hers would twitch, but that was the brunette’s only sign of life, even her breathing had slowed to an almost imperceptible rate.

“ Tell me he’s okay.” Finally she spoke, but her voice was hoarse and strained. “Tell me our boy is okay.” She hadn’t turned, her eyes were still staring lifelessly ahead.

Miranda didn’t miss the fact that Andrea referred to the little one as theirs. A warmth blossomed in her chest, but she knew now wasn’t the time to dwell on such things. _‘Maybe it was a slip of the tongue?’_

“He’ll -” She felt her throat close and swallowed profusely, forcing herself to get the words they both needed to hear out. “He’ll be okay. He’s strong…just like his Mama.”

The editor caught the slight, barely there tilt at the corner of the other woman’s lips, and a sigh of relief puffed through hers before Andrea spoke. “Or his Fairy Queen.”

Miranda hummed in amusement at the boy’s name for her, she never really understood why he insisted when Miranda was much easier to pronounce, but she never had the heart to correct him, not when he said it with such reverence and affection.

“Why Fairy Queen?” They were still a few minutes from the hospital and honestly, they could both use the distraction, even for a moment.

After a few seconds of silence, the editor thought the woman had fallen back into her own swirling thoughts when she spoke again.

“He’s obsessed with Scottish myth, so my mother once told him a story of a Fae Queen, hair as white as snow and eyes as blue as the Arctic who ruled over an eternal winter.” She chuckled lowly. “He saw your hair and that was it.”

“Ah…” Her smile grew a fraction. “I-”

The car screeched to a halt. “Ma’am we’re here!” The driver yelled as the other guard in the front passenger seat jumped out to open the door.

Andy and Miranda were out in a flash, barreling through the glass doors of the Emergency Room.

“Azari Sachs! Where is he?!” Andy shouted at the receptionist. Her hands clutched the edges of the counter as she waited for a response.

The woman looked up, barely giving the disheveled woman a second thought before returning her eyes to her computer screen.

“What kind of bloody hospital is this?! Hello!?” She slammed her hands against the table to get the woman’s attention once more.

With a deep sigh that toes the line of boredom, the woman responded. “What was the name again?”

“Azari Sachs! I’m his mother- where are his fucking guards!?” She swirled around with a snarl at her own. She drew a few eyes to them but she couldn’t care less. Her focus was on her son.

The flood of guards that had followed her began yelling into their comms, frantically trying to get a location when Andy turned back to the receptionist with fire in her eyes. “Listen you incompetent moron-”

“Andrea.” Miranda’s rang out, but that wasn’t what stilled her. It was the cold, hard edge of it. The sound of steel and frost. Clearly the other woman felt it too because her eyes widened.

Miranda eyed the woman’s name tag disinterestedly before returning her gaze to the receptionist’s face and pulled out her cellphone. Within moments, a number she dialed and the editor’s low voice drifted through the speakers.

“I’m at your hospital and I’m very, very disappointed at the service here. Is this really, what I fund with all my donations? No, no, I don’t want to hear your silly excuses Harold. There is a patient here, the son of Lady Andrea Sachs of Westminster, I’m sure you’re familiar with the name? We are being given the run around by your receptionist- make sure here before I hang up Harold, or I’ll have to reconsider my…generosity.”

“I-I am so sor-” The woman had gaped and sunk in her chair when she had heard the name Harold, as in Harold Baccaran, current CEO and CMO of most of the hospitals on the East Coast and parts of Europe.

“Do not be sorry, tell us what we need to know.” Andy was quickly losing her patience.

“I-”

“My Lady!” Two guards came rushing out of the elevator with a person clad in scrubs following closely behind.

Andy moved to them, pulling Miranda along with her.

“Where is he?!”

“This is Dr. Yang, one of the surgeons operating on Lord Sachs. Dr. Yang, this is his mother.”

“Surgery? Wha-Why?” She turned to the woman, her eyes frantic.

“Ms. Sachs, come with me plea- I’m sorry only immediate family is allowed.” The doctor moved to block Miranda whose eyes narrowed.

“I-”

“She is family.” Andy snapped, pulling her closer as if she were scared that the editor would evaporate from her arms.

“Of course, my apologies.” She gestured for them to walk with her. “Your son sustained a minor skull fracture-” When she saw the two falter she quickly rushed out. “As I said, it was minor and it will heal on its own. He also suffered a concussion and the bone from his elbow to his wrist was broken. That is what the surgery is for. Other than superficial lacerations to the face, torso and legs, your son was extremely lucky.”

“So he’s okay?” The hope in Andy’s voice was almost tangible.

“He will be okay.” The doctor smiled.

“What about his driver, Michael?”

“I’m not Mr. Edge’s surgeon, but from our last update, he has several broken ribs, his right leg, left arm and trauma to the head. He has the best of the best working on him, he’ll pull through.” She tried reassuring the brunette when the corner of her eyes began tightening.

The doctor led them to a private waiting room before informing them that she had to return to the surgery. With a nod, Miranda watched the woman go as Andrea sagged into her seat. The weight of it all suddenly crashed down on her. She looked up Miranda with a strange look in her eyes before the widest and brightest smile stretched across her face.

“He’s okay.”

Miranda found herself smiling back at the woman as she too plopped herself in the chair next to the woman. “He’s okay.” 

Andrea then pulled the woman into a bone-crushing hug, barely able to conceal the rush of joy and relief that was coursing through her. Overwhelmed by the array of emotions pouring from Miranda; relief, elated joy, the warmth and sense of safety that was almost as tangible as the hug itself, Andy pull back a little and scooted down a bit before tilting her head up and capturing Miranda’s lips in a slow melting kiss.

“Um…”

The sound of the clearing of a throat pulled them apart. They turned to see four pairs of eyes fidgeting with embarrassment while one, so similar to Andy’s, shone in triumph.

Andy jumped to her feet, running a hand through her hair nervously, she quickly, before any one started asking uncomfortable questions — she was eyeing her mother warily—relayed them the doctor’s update. It was safe to say that the tension drained from the room as everyone took a seat waiting for the doctor to come back.

When Emily had charged unto their floor, demanding to see Serena and Cristobal, the blonde had been amused, but when she saw the frantic look in her eyes as she dodged the guards, she knew something was amiss. She barely heard the red head’s words before she was off, dragging Cristi out of his office and shouting the news at him. Nigel had met them in the lobby and within moments, they were all screeching off.

Ainslie’s car had pulled up second after theirs and the five had barreled through the Emergency Room.

“I called your father and the others.” Ainslie said as she handed her daughter a cup of tea.

“They’re already on their way aren’t they?” Andy winced.

“Wheels went up not even twenty minutes later.”

“Too late to tell them to turn around?” Andy only half joked.

With a roll of her eyes, Ainslie sipped from her own cup. “You know they have to see him with their own eyes before they believe he’s okay. It would be no use.”

“Thought as much.”

Behind them, the door swung open. “Ms. Sachs?”

The entire room stood.

“Call me Andy.” She stepped forward.

The man offered Andy a reassuring smile. “The surgery to reset his arm was successful, but we need to keep him for a few days to monitor his concussion and skull fracture.”

Andrea nodded as he spoke, letting the words sink in.

“When can we see him?” Miranda stepped forward.

“You can all go one at a time, but not for long, he needs his rest okay?”

The room nodded and murmured to each other as the doctor left.

“I’ll go pick up Ducky and the twins and bring them here. They must be crawling up the wall.” Cristi moved to pick up his coat.

“I’ll go with you.” Emily grabbed her purse. “We pick up dinner for everyone on our way back.”

Cristi nodded before offering her his arm. “Good idea. Any preferences?”

“Just tell Alejandro we’re starving, he’ll know what to do.” Serena threw Cristi’s phone to him.

“Thanks mate.” Andy sighed as the two moved to the door.

“Don’t even mention it bella.” He called back over his shoulder, before they disappeared down the halls.

Andy turned to Miranda. “Come see him with me?”

The editor’s brows furrowed. “I’d think you’d want to be alone with him.”

“I want you with me, he’d want you there. Come?”

With a nod, the two were out of the waiting room. They entered the darkened room and Andy pulled the editor to the sleeping boy’s bedside. He was nestled in a throng of blankets and sheets. The steady beep of his heart rate monitor echoed like a drum in the room. His head was wrapped in white bandages and gauze and his arm was wrapped in a caste. His face was littered with cuts and bruises that disappeared under his clothes and reappeared on his hands and legs.

Her heart clenched in anger and sorrow of the fact that he had to experience this pain and trauma. That someone had dared to act so recklessly, so carelessly.

She watched as Miranda dropped onto the Ottoman sofa by his head and clutched at his ‘good’ hand. Andy then quietly moved and sat behind Miranda, wrapped her arm around the editor’s waist and pulled the woman back. She placed her chin on the woman’s shoulder and placed her other hand over the editor’s that was holding the boy’s hand.

Andy was in awe of Miranda. The woman had been her rock and tether during this whole ordeal. “My heart nearly stopped when I heard he-” Miranda’s breath hitched with the thought.

“I know.” Andy whispered. “But he’s here now, our baby is healthy and alive.” She breathed.

_ ‘There she went again with the ‘our.’ _ Miranda thought, but chose not to say anything, not when she felt her stomach tingle.

“Do they know what happened?” Miranda whispered instead.

“My people are looking into it. They should have something shortly.”

The hardness of Andrea’s voice brought a sinking feeling to the editor’s stomach and her mind drifted to the package she had received earlier. A package that consisted solely of one of those old flip phones. There was no letter, no information on the device, nothing. She didn’t know why her mind drifted to it, but for a split second every feeling in her body was replaced with dread. She decided that now was neither the time nor the place to bring it up, and so she would keep it to herself.

“Is he safe?” Confusion laced her voice. “Are we-”

“I’ll make sure of it.” If it were possible, Andrea’s voce hardened even more.

A whine escaped the boy’s lips, drawing their eyes to him. They rose and leaned over him, cooing and rubbing his cheek gently.

“Azza? Azza, can you hear me baby?” Andy whispered.

“Ma…” He whimpered again as his eyes fluttered open. “Ma…ma…”

“Yes baby, Mama’s here.” She pressed a kiss to his bandaged forehead.

His eyes scanned the room frantically before landing on Miranda.

“Fairy Queen!” He croaked. “I hurted!” Then he proceeded to burst into tears.

“Oh, my sweet boy.” Miranda perched on the edge of his bed before peppering his face with light kisses. “Do you still hurt?”

He sniffed and nodded. Miranda stroked his arm softly and whispered comforting words in that soothing voice of hers. Azza's streaming tears stopped and he even managed to offer a watery smile. Miranda couldn't help but smile back. After Azza had calmed down, she looked up and saw Andy watching them with such tenderness that for a moment she lost her breath.

“I’ll go get the doctor to see about his pain.” She whispered before pressing another kiss to his forehead. “I’ll be back soon baby.” She reassured when he whimpered and reached for her.

______________________ 

Over the course of the next few days, young Lord Azari Sachs’ room has a steady stream of family members moving in and out. His arm itched, his body ached and most importantly, he wanted to go home but the doctors wouldn’t let, no matter how much he begged and pleaded, but today was the day.

The day when he would finally escape this hell and be able to surround himself with his toys and eat something didn’t look icky.

“They are here!” Ainslie thrummed in anticipation downstairs in the Penthouse.

Azza had been discharged just this morning and now he was in his room napping.

“Who is here?” Nigel asked over the little breakfast buffet the kitchen staff had prepared at the Penthouse.

“Our parents.” Serena and Cristi said in unison but the Spaniard through a mouth full of bacon.

“They would have been here days ago but their flight was grounded because of a storm and layovers were a nightmare.” Serena finished.

“Your parents are coming?” Emily felt light headed. She wasn’t ready,  _ ‘Oh god, _ ’ She thought.  _ ‘What if they didn’t like her? What if they thought she was some awful commoner wanting to sully their precious daughter?’ _

“Calm down Em, I can hear you thinking from all the way over here. Don’t worry, they’ll love you.” Serena pressed a kiss to the side of her head before rising to get a plate.

“Your parent’s are close with each other?” Miranda asked.

“Honestly? They would have been the original ‘Riot Club.’ They even have a group chat.” Andy said with an exasperated roll of her eyes. “They’ve known each other all their lives and make the things we’ve done.” She gestured to Serena, Cristi and herself. “Look like a child's play.”

“So the mischief runs in the family then?” Miranda's eyes twinkled as she sipped her coffee.

“You have no idea. I’m pretty sure Aunt Asta, Serena’s mum dated Fidel Castro for a while.”

“She did not!” Serena yelled in exasperation.

“While she was married to Uncle Malthe.” Cristi finished with a grin.

At Miranda’s raised eyebrows, Serena supplied. “They’re very open….and very liberal.”

“Ah.” She replied.

“I wonder how Serena became such a prude?” Andy teased and yelped when Serena threw a fork at her head. “Assault! Abuse!” She laughed when another came sailing her way.

The ding of the elevator drew everyone’s eyes to the arches that led to the other rooms.

“They’re here!”

“You wouldn’t think that she saw them less than two weeks ago right?” Cristi grinned.

Ainslie ran through the arch way and before they knew it, the apartment was filled with screams and laughs. Within moments, a truly beautiful group came barreling in. They looked like supermodels who aged like fine wine. Cristi’s mother Danari, rushed over to her baby boy and peppered him with kisses even as he was stuffing his face with food.

“Look at you.” She gushed as he grinned at her and she smiled.

Nigel felt his heart race. So that was where Cristobal got that heart melting smile from.

“Mama this is-”

“Oh I know who you are.” She smiled so warmly at him before turning and smacking her son with her purse. “You tell the world you have a boyfriend before you tell your parents! Your own Mama! I thought I raised you better than that!” Though her voice had a Spanish lilt to it, it had a beautiful Middle Eastern drawl that combined perfectly.

“Lo siento Mama! Ow!” He winced as he tried dodging the onslaught. “Papa help!”

“You’re on your own with this one Mijo. Your Mama has been furious for days.”

The man entered the room and Nigel’s heart stopped. It stopped. The man was a perfect example of what Cristi would look like with greying temples and more pronounced laugh lines. Save for the complexion, Cristobel was his perfect copy. Armand Benavente WAS perfection.

Next was Malthe and Asta. Malthe looked as though he came straight out of Viking novel, complete with a single braid falling down his back. He was big, he was tall and he was fierce looking, a stark contrast to the warmth and playful tenderness that twinkled in his eyes. 

They ruffled Cristi’s hair and shot a wink at Andy before going to their daughter.

“Aunt Asta, tell them that you dated Castro, they don’t believe me.” Andy piped up with a grin.

“Oh, my dear niece. A lady never kisses and tells.” She winked as the woman dissolved into laughter.

“Where is my grandson?” A voice bellowed and they all turned to see Richard strut in as though he owned the place, his wife wrapped around him.

“Father.” Andy smiled.

“Andy.” He grinned back

“He’s napping upstairs.”

“GRANPA!!!”

“He _was_ napping upstairs.” Andy repeated dryly.

“There’s my boy!”

Azza ran as fast as his legs could go, jumping down the steps in order to reach faster before diving into his grandfather’s waiting arms. They all watched in relief that the boy truly was okay and joy that he was still the same old Azza.

“No love for us little one?” His grandma Armand called out in mock hurt as the little boy giggled and wiggled out of his grandfather’s hand and excitedly made his way around the room, showering attention like a benevolent king.

After a while, the rest of the Sachs-Priestly children came out of the woodwork at the commotion and before long a regular breakfast turned into a full blown family affair. There was laughter, yelling, playful banter and stories, stories for days. Emily, Nigel and even Miranda took to the family like a fish in water. Though a bit awkward at first, the older aristocrats managed to coax their children’s significant others out of their reserved propriety.

“Andy! I have someone I want you to meet. Count Vichek’s daughter has expressed an interest in marriage.” Richard tattled on without noticing that the room had gone quiet.

“Richard.” Ainslie started, but he went on. “I think it would be a good match and I’ve arranged a meeting bet-” Seeing the colour drain from Andy’s face and Miranda’s eyes narrow, Ainslie decided to take quick action. She reached under the table, grabbed her husband’s crotch and squeezed.

The yelp that shot from his lips jolted everyone from their stunned silence. His face reddened as he tried escaping his wife’s vice grip but she was relentless. “Shut up Rick!” She hissed quietly. “You’ll ruin it!”

“Wha?” He wheezed and almost wept when she finally let him go.

“You’re a right idiot my friend.” Malthe laughed then winked as Ainslie. Everyone could see what was happening between their Andy and the Priestly girl. Everyone except them….and Richard apparently.

“Wha’d I do?” He groaned.

The entire room shook their heads in exasperation, save for Andrea and Miranda who eyed each other warily.

_______________________

“Do you really want me to start losing my patience or will you tell me what I need to know?” Arel Montesano, head of Andrea’s personal guard, sat in front of the shivering man with cold unwavering eyes.

The security team that had been travelling with the young lord had managed to grab one of the men who had been involved in the calculated collision. The unnamed man had an odd tattoo on his inner wrist – a palm of some sort– and after describing it to the Director, she had been ordered to detain and question him before handing him over to the local authorities.

So here she sat, watching him watch her with hard menacing eyes, threatening her with death every few minutes, but she sat calm and coolly, waiting on tech support to uncover this man’s entire life story, his friend’s, his family, whatever made him tick, she would have it all soon. Then, the real fun would begin.

_________________________

Andrea had settled into bed not long ago after tucking in Azza and checking in on Caro, Cass and Ducky. It had been a taxing week to say the least. Andy’s, Serena’s and Cristi’s parents had all arrived and proceeded to undertake the mantle of the doting grandparents, much to Miranda’s amusement when the girls had been included. After reassuring themselves that Azz was safe and sound, they had decided to stay in New York and attend the Benavente opening.

So here, Andy was, lying in bed and exhausted, so much so that she had decided to call it a night at 9p.m. As she moved to turn off the light, a gentle knock sounded through her room.

The parents had checked in at the Ritz-Carlton, Serena, and Cristi and elected to stay with their significant others. So, the house was virtually empty save for the children, herself and Miranda.

After two more knocks, the door swung open and shuffled in four rugrats.

“I thought you all went to bed-” She looked at the clock. “An hour ago.”

“Azza couldn’t sleep.” Ducky whispered as he hoisted his brother unto their Mum’s bed then threw himself down unto the mattress. “And neither could I.” The pillows muffled his voice.

“And they couldn’t sleep, so they decided that none of us should.” Caroline’s voice though dry, was laced with amusement and exasperation. Especially when Charlie raised his head to shoot her a cheeky smile before flopping his face back into the mountain of sheets.

“Ah I see.” Andy grinned then patted her Wyoming King mattress. “Hop up.”

With bright smiles, the duo ran and dove under the sheets, wiggling and tickling Azza and Charlie as they made themselves comfortable.

“Everybody comfortable?” Andy’s voice was serious.

“Aye Capin!” Azza yelled with a giggle.

“Alright Private wee one, operation ‘Go to Sleep’ ready?!”

“Nuh uh!” He giggled. “No seep Mama! We no tiwed.”

“Oh? Then what about the rest of you? Private Ducky?”

He shook his head with a grin.

“Private Cass?”

She giggled a no.

She arched her brow. “This is becoming serious. What about you Private Caro?”

She yawned, big and wide before her sister and Charlie whacked her with a pillow. “Alright, alright, sleep is for losers!” She yelled when the assault continued. “Happy!?”

“No!” They yelled in unison before continuing, drawing Azza and Andy in their little pillow fight. Before long, the room was covered in feathers and sponges.

Miranda had been perusing the book in her room when she felt the urge to check on the children. First, someone had tried taking her babies and now Azza had almost died, it was safe to say she was shaken up a bit and she took comfort in watching them sleep, even if it was only for a few minutes.

She made her way down the hall, but slowed as she neared Andrea’s door. A door, which was slightly ajar with, pieces of….was that feather? Floating through it. There was the sound of a commotion coming from within, with the distinct sound of her children laughing and Azza’s baby giggle.

Pushing the door open, her eyes widened when she saw the four, clad in their pyjamas, in various positions, huddled behind blankets, sheets and furniture. Feather floated around like snow in mid-December. She didn’t know whether to be appalled or amused as she watched Andrea run with Cassidy thrown over her shoulder, dodging an onslaught from Caroline and Charles, while a giggling Azza rolled across the bed, feet kicking and arms flailing.

“What on earth is going on here?”

The room stilled at Miranda’s voice. Even the floating feathers seemed to drift quickly to the ground in shame.

“Uh…” Andrea turned wide eyed with Caroline over one shoulder and Charlie dangling from the other.

“How articulate.” She said dryly when Andrea failed to say more. “Aren’t you all supposed to be in your own beds, sleeping I might add?”

“We no tiwed Fairy Queen. We pay!”

“Oh you play?”

“Huh uh. Mama says so.”

Andrea cringed as Miranda focused laser eyes on her. “Oh? Mama said so? So I’m in a house with five children then.”

“Someone’s in trouble.” Ducky sang under his breath but his mother heard and poked him in the side.

“Hey!”

“Really Andrea?” Miranda said, making it clear that she saw and heard everything.

Lowering her cargo to the ground, Andrea looked at the editor sheepishly with a charming grin on her face. One that had earned many forgiveness before. “They weren’t tired so I thought we’d burn off some energy.”

The trio ran and joined Azza in Andy’s enormous bed, snuggling up to each other and watching their parents’ back and forth.

With a low chuckle, Miranda turned her head and regarded the children. “Bed, the lot of you. It’s time to sleep.”

“Oh come on Mom!”

“Miranda please.”

“Fairy Queen we no tiwed!” Azza yelled through a yawn that could crack jaws.

“So _now_ you yawn.” Andy said dryly, eyeing her son in exasperation.

Miranda found herself grinning at the little group before laughing. She watched as Andrea made her way into the bed and snuggled with them. “Come on Priestly. Shut the door and get in here, it’s certainly big enough.” She moved part of the comforter and beckoned the woman to come. “I know you want to cuddle.” She winked when the other woman hesitated.

“I still have some work to finish-”

“I’ll put in a good word with your boss, now get in here, my feet are getting cold.”

Miranda found her resolve weakening and before she knew it, she had crossed the room, taking off her robe and discarded it somewhere before snuggling into Andrea’s waiting arms.

“This doesn’t mean I like you.” She breathed as she settled comfortably in the brunette’s embrace, her face buried in her neck, she grinned to herself when she felt the low rumble of laughter vibrating Andrea’s chest.

“Wouldn’t dream of it Priestly.”

____________________

Ainslie hummed as she entered the Penthouse. She had matters to discuss with her daughter and figured early morning would be the most opportune time. So there she was, a little after six, strolling leisurely through the halls and corridors to Andy’s room.

She had learned long ago to always ALWAYS knock before entering her daughter’s room. She encountered enough things that both scarred and impressed her and so, to save herself and extra therapy sessions, she always knocked and most importantly, waited. This morning, however, she knew the odds of her daughter bringing back someone and engaging in…certain activities were next to none, and she was almost sure that Miranda hadn’t allowed her daughter to woo her into bed as yet.

So, she quickly rapped on the door twice before opening the door and moving to enter. She was brought up short by the sight before her. _‘Well that was unexpected…yet oddly, expected.’_ She thought. Her eyes softened and a smile tugged at her lips at the sight. Of all the times, she had accidentally and sometimes not accidentally –the girl needed to learn some of the times– walked in on her daughter, she had never once, ever seen her daughter…actually sleep and…cuddle with another person.

The children were huddled together sleeping essentially on top of each other while Miranda and Andy were wrapped in each other’s arms, tender, soft smiles gracing their lips as though they recognized each other’s touch even in sleep.

She didn’t dare wake them, she couldn’t, not when she had never seen her daughter so content, so at peace and she would bet everything she owned that Miranda was the same. So she pulled out her phone and quickly took a few pictures before slowly clicking the door shut. Outside she scrolled through the pictures, cooing before sending them to the group chat, laughing to herself when the others responded with heart and fire emojis.

Richard responded with an, _‘Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh….I get it now.’_ She rolled her eyes, she loved the man, but in matters of the heart, he was obtuse, _‘Maybe that’s where Andy got it from,’_ she thought with a chuckle.

“Did my mother honestly just take a pic of us Priestly?” Andrea murmured without opening her eyes, amusement lacing her voice.

“She’s not as subtle as she likes to think.” Miranda mumbled back with a grin before the two fell back to sleep.

________________________

Andy caught Miranda by the elevator doors as she prepared to leave for work.

“Hey Priestly, do you have a moment?”

“Not particularly, but I’ll spare a few.”

“How gracious.” Andy rolled her eyes.

“Your time is running out.”

Andrea eyed her before releasing a puff of air and pulling something from the inner pocket of her jacket. “I didn’t get to give you this on your birthday. I had sent for it, but it only just arrived.” She rushed out, and then opened the lid.

Miranda stared for what seemed like forever without blinking. Nestled in the middle of the box on a bed of velvet was a string of diamonds polished and cut to perfection. It glowed brilliantly as rays of light seemed to emit from it. Miranda was enchanted she was transfixed. The surfaces of each gem was impossibly smooth. Covering her mouth with her hand, Miranda was stunned, the necklace seemed delicate in the most fragile way, they looked old and expensive.

It would fit close, touching the skin rather than dangling. However, what really made the piece heart stopping was the magnificent jewel in the center. Larger than the others, a deep blue diamond brought the piece together. A magnificent rainbow aurora surrounded it, giving off an ethereal glow.

“That is-I can’t, I can’t accept that.”

“Why not?’ Andy frowned.

“It’s too...God Andrea, it’s the most beautiful piece I’ve ever seen.” Awe laced her voice.

“And yet it’s nothing compared to you.” Andrea whispered lowly, then clamped her mouth shut as if she never meant to say it much less be heard. “It’s yours.” She placed the box in Miranda’s hand. “Perfection worthy of you.” She quickly turned on her heels and was gone before Miranda could utter a squeak.

__________________

Nadia tittered to herself as she made her way up to Andy’s floor. The front desk security had been so easy to manipulate. All she had to do was bat her eyelashes, pull down her blouse a fraction and pout and like a key to a lock, he was putty in her hands. She had to also pay off one the ATLAS guards, but it was worth it.

She grew tired of Andy’s little games, her little attempt at making her jealous with that awful Priestly woman. Whom was Andy trying to fool? Everyone knew that they were perfect for each other. If only Andy would wake up and realize that, the perfect woman was standing in front of her, willing and waiting for her to notice.

She sighed to herself, she could no longer wait for Andy to come to her senses, and clearly she would need to take matters into her own hands now.

She strutted past Andy’s outer office and her absent secretary’s desk and made her way into the love of her life’s domain.

“I need the minute’s from my last meeting typed up and printed out and I want those contracts from legal in ten minutes please. I gave it to them last week to look over, what’s taking them so bloody long?” Andy was furiously scribbling away while she looked through the various papers on her desk. When she received no response from her assistant, she looked up with a frown. “What’s wr-” She shot to her feet, her chair clanging behind her as her fingers grip the pen until she could hear the cracking. “Nadia! What are you doing here? I thought you went back to the continent.” Her frown deepened.

“What do you mean what am I doing here?” She moved closer. “I’m here for you?”

“Me?” Andy was truly confused now.

“Yes you!” Nadia laughed, but it sounded a bit unhinged.

“Look Nadia, I don’t know why you’re here but-”

“Gustav left me.” She said matter-of-factly and Andy swore under her breath. Guilt and shame coursing through her.

“I’m so sor-”

“Isn’t that great!” She took off her coat and approached Andy slowly. “We can be together now!”

“Nadia, please-”

“We can get married,”

“Nadia-”

“And have children, I know you have two but I want some of our own as well.”

“Nadia-”

“I already contacted the planner and found the perfect location, It’s-”

“For fuck’s sake Nadia!” Andrea yelled, her patience gone, probably along with the last of Nadia’s sanity.

“What my love?” She smiled at Andy, even as she slowly unbuttoned her shirt.

“I don’t know whaaaaat are you doing?” Andy backed away slightly when Nadia approached. “No, don’t do that. Button it.” She gestured wildly, looking at the door to see if someone,  _ anyone  _ would come help. “Button it back up!” She jumped over her chair, ran around her desk and yelped when Nadia took off her blouse and threw it at her face.

“I know you want me Andy.” She moaned as she rubbed her hands down her own torso. “Remember the things you used to do to me? The thing I used to do to you.” She ran  around the table, grabbing at Andy but missing her by a few inches. “Only I can do that little thing that you like. That thing…with my tongue.” She smirked.

Andy reached for her phone to call security but Nadia quickly grabbed it and tucked it between her breasts as Andy cursed.

The brunette was honestly contemplating just diving through the high-rise window and hoping for the best, because no way in hell was she allowing Nadia to touch her…allowing anyone to touch her as a matter of fact. The thought made her shudder in disgust and repulsion. There was only one touch she craved, only one she wanted and it certainly wasn’t Nadia.

“Look Nadia, I know we messed up and I’m sorry your marriage ended. If you need help, financially or…otherwise.” She pointedly looked at her hoping to convey her concern.  “I’d be happy to step in and arrange something for you.”

“The only help I need…is out of my lingerie.” She purred as she unbuttoned her pants and pulled down her zipper provocatively. “It’s your favorite colour. You couldn’t resist me whenever I wore this, remember?”

Andy scrambled unto the top of her desk. “Back! Get back woman! Put on your clothes damn it!”

Nadia laughed, carefree, happy…and insanely. She moved quickly and grabbed Andy’s feet before pulling causing them both to topple to the ground; Andrea sprawled on top of her. She used the brunette’s stunned stillness to quickly wrap her arms and feet around her body, pressing her closer to her.

The elevators dinged as Miranda exited and entered the CEO’s floor. After this morning, she was left stunned, flattered and…happy. So she was doing something she had never done before. She was bringing the – dare she say it –object of her affection lunch. She had given Emily an early lunch and ordered in from one of her favorite little bistros.

She had asked Andrea’s assistant if the woman had anything planned and when she found out that her schedule was relatively clear, she had set her plan in motion. A content grin tugged at her lips as she walked down the hall with the perfectly packaged and preserved meals, and she couldn’t wait to see the shock, give way to amusement then to that warm look that always caused her stomach to flip and her knees to weaken.

Without knocking, she quietly pushed the doors and opened her mouth to call the workaholic. The sight before froze the sound in her throat. There Andrea was, wrapped up tightly on her office floor with a mostly naked woman, wriggling and grinding away. Her hands clenched and she felt her heart begin to slowly chip away.

The woman looked up and Miranda steeled herself, refusing to allow whoever the bitch was to see her weak. Nadia saw Miranda from the corner of her eye and looked over with a smirk, blew a kiss to the woman before she started moaning elaborately. She started chanting Andrea’s name in breathy whispers.

Andrea hadn’t seen Miranda standing there as she struggled against Nadia’s vice grip. She really didn’t want to hurt the woman, but if she didn’t let her go now, she was seriously contemplating the other alternatives, which would leave the other woman in a great deal of pain.

Miranda watched, her eyes riveted, she couldn’t for the life of her tear them away. Nadia, she recognized Andrea's former lover. How long had they been screwing around? Who else had the brunette taken to bed even while whispering sweet nothing to Miranda? She should have known that the Aristocrat was nothing more than scum, she should have listened to her first instincts. The first instinct that told her to hate the woman, the one that told her to stay away and guard herself because those pretty eyes would only bring trouble and heartache. Now? Now she was paying the price for her disobedience.

With one last look, she turned on her heels and walked back to her office, suspended somewhere between blind, white-hot fury and…numbness.

Runway quaked when the queen returned.

________________

Andrea looked in the mirror after her little team of make-up artists and stylists had left her room. She was absolutely stunning and couldn’t wait to tease Miranda into her bed tonight. She needed the woman’s touch, it was the only thing that could erase the horror that was Nadia’s hands on her body. She shuddered at the thought, luckily she had decided to forgo niceties and quickly wrangled herself free and detained her with her tie. She didn’t want that piece of clothing back. The woman could keep it.

When security finally arrived, they had felt the full brunt of Lady Andrea’s fury, heads had rolled and people were fired before Nadia was escorted and banned from the building. She couldn’t believe it had come to this but what was she to do? The woman had crossed the line.

Now as they prepared to go to Cristi’s launch, she felt calmer, more at ease. Though she hadn’t seen the woman since she had given her the gift, she was hoping that Miranda would wear it tonight and that she would accompany her as her plus one, her date, her Lady.

She grinned at the mirror and winked to her image before exiting her rooms.

Emily and Nigel had elected to meet everyone at the Penthouse where they would get ready with a team of make-up artists and stylist then they would all leave in a fleet of luxury cars with the aim of stunning the New York glitterati.

They watched Andy descend the stairs and Nigel gave her a loud wolf whistle. “Dressed to impress tonight?”

“You know I always do?” She smirked at him.

“Let me rephrase. Dressed to impress a certain silver haired someone tonight?”

“As I said, you know I always do.” She winked with mischief in her eyes. “You both look amazing by the way.”

“Oh we know.” Emily preened as Serena entered the room with a flute of Champagne, handing it to her girl before pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder.

“You look simply exquisite my darling.”

Emily turned and whispered something in the blonde’s ear that had her blushing to her roots.

“Don’t kill her just yet Em.” Nigel snickered as Serena’s brain had yet to restart.

“Of course not.” She pressed a kiss to the corner of Serena’s mouth. “I still have use for her.”

Cristi walked into the room with a booming laugh at the words. “Andy, I don’t think Serena will recover from that. We should just leave her.” He laughed again when the blonde flipped him off.

“We’re going to be late, where is Miranda.”

“She should-” Andy looked up and nearly swallowed her tongue. Perfection. Stunning. Breathtaking. Those were the only words that rang through the brunette’s mind as Miranda descended the stairs. “Holy fuck…” She whispered in awe, but the thing that nearly brought her to her knees was the choker nestled perfectly against creamy skin, accenting the dress and her coif perfectly. She was a vision to behold, and Andy found her panting, her fingers itching to touch.

“Priestly you look-”

Miranda glided past Andrea without a glance. She stopped in front of the group, inspected them individually before offering each the signature Priestly nod of approval. When she turned and came face to face with Andrea, she looked her up and down then pursed her lips before turning away. The smile slowly slipped from Andy’s lips as the rest of the room winced in confusion.

_‘_

_What the fuck?!’_ Emily mouthed Nigel who shrugged in disbelief.

“Was that the only thing you could find?” Her voice was cold, cold and hard.

“I- ah…you don’t like it?” Andy’s voice was confused. Confused and unsure.

“Oh the dress is exquisite, it’s the person in it that's cheapening the aesthetic.”

Andy frowned, even as Nigel gripped his own collar. This wasn’t playful banter. This was a personal attack, mean and vindictive. She hadn’t heard Miranda speak to her like this since that night after Irv had tried attacking her.

“Miranda what’s the matter why are-”

“It’s not surprising though.” Her voice grew bored. “What else should I expect from someone so…cheap and pathetic?”

Emily stepped forward when she realized something truly horrible was happening. Andy hadn’t even gotten upset at Miranda’s words, she was still locked in confusion and disbelief. “Miranda,” The red head began before the buzzer chimed, and the elevators dinged open.

“It’s getting late, shouldn’t we be off? I don’t want to keep my date waiting.”

Andy recoiled as if she had been slapped in the face. Even as the others' eyes widened.

From the lift, stepped a middle-aged man, fairly handsome, with specks of grey at his temples, chiseled with the smile of a campaigning politician.

“Miranda.” His voice was like nails on glass to Andy ears. “You look amazing.”

Andy stared at him, her eyes narrowed as he bent to kiss Miranda’s cheek.

“Calm down Andy.” Serena whispered. “Breathe.”

“Andrew, don’t you look so handsome tonight.” She raised on her feet and pressed s long kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Shall we go?” She smirked at them, relishing in the seething anger now pouring off Andrea.

She then turned an entered the elevator, with Emily and Nigel, who looked at the way she was hanging off the man in disbelief. As the elevators dinged closed. Cristi turned to Serena and Andy.

“What the fuck was that?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. – B.S.
> 
> P.S. For anyone interested, follow me on tumblr. It's Bastesloan.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. Here’s another chapter, stay safe and I hope you enjoy. – B.S.
> 
> P.S. Shout out to my Beta, Weilan25, who has been an immense help. Also, this might be my last chapter for a bit as I have exams coming up so it's crunch time. There might be another after this before my little hiatus, but i'm not 100% sure so please bear this in mind.
> 
> Also I want to say a big thank you for the comments on the last chapter. They were so in depth and I'm really pleased by the feedback I received. I truly hope you all continue!

Cristi and Serena were dying in the tense atmosphere in the town car. The waves of anger rolling off Andy was almost tangible as the woman sat rigid, staring through the windows. Her hands were fisted as they laid in her lap and her eyes were narrowed accusingly at the images flashing pass.

Cristi tugged at his collar, glancing warily at Serena who returned his sentiments. Deciding to take the risk and check if the brunette was okay, he awkwardly cleared his throat.

“Andy? Are you-”

“Do not.” The snap of her voice was low and stinging. “Ask me if I’m okay.”

“What do you need?” Serena stepped in.

Silence descended around them once more. It was one thing to see Andy raving, fuming and cursing, but it was another thing to see her so quiet, so calm, the barely restrained rage was infinitesimally more daunting, that was then they knew they should be worried.

“What I need…” She started. “Is for someone to tell me what she was thinking when she brought that fucking bastard to my home.” There was no inflection in her voice. It remained waspishly calm and deadly.

“Maybe he was just a friend?” Cristi squeaked at the end, wincing when he heard the ridiculousness of his words.

They had seen Miranda all but strip her mystery man and have at it in the foyer. It was a show, Cristi knew that for sure, The way Miranda’s eyes would flicker to Andy every few seconds, how her eyes gleamed in triumph whenever Andy winced and most importantly how she had shuddered when the man ran his hands down her back and from the purse of her lips, it had not been in pleasure.

He knew, however, that Andy wouldn’t have been able to see pass Miranda’s lips on another, so all those little signs were lost on her. What he couldn’t figure out was why. Why all the theatrics? Why would the woman, who he was sure was head over heels for his sister, go out of her way to purposely hurt her?

He turned to Serena and caught the blonde’s eyes. She was thinking the very same thing. They needed to get to the bottom of this and fast, before the two women did or say something that they wouldn’t be able to come back from.

“And Andrew? What kind of fucking name is Andrew?” She gritted paying no attention to the silent exchange happening beside her.

“No different from Andrea I should think.” Cristi whispered then winced when Serena’s elbow made contact with his chest.  _ ‘Yeah he deserved that one.’ _ He thought when she eyed him incredulously. Fortunately, the brunette hadn’t heard, instead she was still musing out loud.

“I bet she did that on purpose. The woman really can be a manipulative arse sometimes.”

The two watched her work herself into a frenzy. With each comment, a wildness grew in her eyes. A wildness that threatened to erupt at the least bit of provocation. Serena shook her head in pity, both for Andy’s plight and for the fact that it all chose to come to head on the launch of Cristi’s latest project. _‘Maybe the two could at least act civil until the festivities were over, at least for Cristobal’s sake if for nothing else.’_

The car slowed in front of the Gala. The flashing lights of the paparazzi’s cameras jarred Andy from the rabbit hole she had fallen down. Cristi had gone all out, the entrance was covered in a rolled out red carpet with camera and new crews interviewing various beautifully and handsomely dressed celebrities, politicians and aristocrats. It was spectacular in its decadence and every bit worthy of the Benavente name.

When Cristi took breath, centering and preparing himself to be bombarded by the journalists and cameramen, he shot them an uneasy smile before stepping into the lights. Before Serena followed, she turned to the other woman and whispered quickly. “Andy, I know you’re upset and I know you feel like shite, but this is Cristi’s night. He wouldn’t ask, but at least try pretending to be happy, be civil to Miranda. At least until the night is over. Agreed?”

Andy sighed in frustration before jerking her head quickly. She knew Serena was right. She knew it, but that didn’t mean she had to be happy about it.

As they all stepped out, the cameras went wild. Serena and Cristi moved towards their counterpart before posing for various shots. Andy steeled herself, refusing to allow even a sliver of the hurt she was feeling to bleed through. She was tired of this. Tired of the hot then cold, the back and forth. She honestly believed she had been making headway with her and she was determined that no matter how long it took, she would have waited with a bright smile and open arms.

When she found out it was Miranda’s birthday, and contemplated what she wanted to give the woman, the idea popped into her head and refused to leave. So, she had made arrangements and tried her very best to not think about what it all meant. Then Miranda had accepted it, she had accepted it and came down wearing it. For a moment Andy's mind had short circuited and everything, everything had just fallen into place and she thought…well it doesn’t matter anymore does it.

She sensed Miranda before she saw her. The hair on the back of her neck and on her arm stood and she felt the pressure in her chest build, but she refused,  _ refused  _ to let the woman see the effect she had on her. A reporter called out to the editor who stopped, pulling her date along with her.

The woman stood right next to the brunette, so close they were almost touching but she hadn’t acknowledged her presence. Instead, she focused her attention on the questions asked. She laughed airily and light when the moments called for it, and charmed the camera, as was her way.

“So tell us Miranda, is this the new Mr. Priestly?” The man asked conspiratorially with a cheeky grin.

Again Miranda laughed.

Andrea suddenly felt sick.

“If I told you, where would the fun be in that?” She grinned at the camera coyly before tugging at the preening man’s hand. “Come along darling.”

As she turned to move away, satisfied that Andrea had heard her, she stilled at the words that left the young aristocrat’s mouth.

“Am I dating anyone?” Andy smirked at the corner. “I was involved in a little something but you know how it goes, I didn’t realize she was the needy, clingy type.” She shrugged and laughed lowly, when Miranda’s shoulder tensed. “But now I’m off to better. Let’s see what happens.”

Miranda’s ears burned with every word that spewed from Andrea’s treacherous lips. It took every ounce of her strength, coupled with Nigel’s plead not to ruin the night for Cristobal, that prevented her from turning on her heels and ripping the woman a new one _. ‘How dare she? How dare she?! Standing there cocksure of herself as if she hadn’t been the one to, to…ugh.’_

Miranda realized in that moment that she hated one Andrea Sachs, she hated her with a burning passion. She hated her stupid face. She hated her charming smile. She hated the way she made Miranda feel as though she was the only person in her universe. She hated it all. Even now, she could still see that disgusting woman wrapped around Andrea, moaning and groaning like some…some trollop! She had wanted to march in and yell and scream but she had stopped herself.

What if Andrea had looked at her with mocking eyes? What if they both had laughed at Miranda’s gullibility before going back to each other’s embrace, uncaring if she was still there to watch? No, she couldn’t chance it. She needed to protect herself. To reinforce the steel and concrete she had built over the years. She should have done this from the moment that vile creature had smirked at her in La Reina.

Refusing to deign the other woman with so much as a look. She continued walking, pulling her hand free from his as she entered the building. She felt like throwing up, nauseousness flow through her and all she wanted to do was go home and curl up under her sheets. Maybe, if time permitted it, she would also have a good cry. _‘Damn you Andrea Sachs!’_ She yelled in her mind. _‘And damn myself for falling for those stupid lies and fake tenderness.’_

“Miranda!” Ainslie walked over quickly, her eyes latched onto the piece gracing Miranda’s neck and the woman felt her body buzz in excitement.  _ ‘Finally!’ _ She thought. She then slowed when she saw the man milling behind her future daughter-in-law with a hand at the small of her back. “Is this man bothering you?” Her eyes narrowed as she looked across the room, gesturing for the security to come. “The security here is so lax, I’m-”

“He’s not bothering her Mother.” Andy responded before the editor could. “He’s her  _ date _ .”

“Date?” Ainslie was confused, and rightly so. She hadn’t been at the Penthouse when Miranda had decided that it would be a perfect opportunity to reveal that she was a two timing arsehole. “I don’t understand.” She whispered to herself. Thinking of the picture, she had taken and of all the interactions, she had witnessed between the two. This made no sense.

Richard approached his wife, Malthe and Armand not far behind.

“Are you alright my love?” He pulled her to him with a frown.

“Father?”

“Hmmm?” He answered without taking his eyes from his redhead.

“You can set up that meeting with Vichek’s daughter. I’ve had enough of…” She turned to look at Miranda with disdain. “…common blood.”

“Andrea Sachs!” Her mother snapped, scandalized by her daughter’s words.

Miranda turned to the younger woman with a sneer on her lips. “Ah.” She said as if enlightened. “Feel like whoring around some more then? Do make sure this one isn’t married won’t you? We know how much you love philandering around.”

Their exchange drew the attention of Danari, Asta and the others who stood wide-eyed. The two weren’t pulling any punches.

At Miranda’s words, Andy threw her head back and laughed. There was no humour in it. “Taking the moral high ground, are you Priestly? That’s rich coming from someone who had their tongue down my throat just days ago.” She neared the woman, leaned over and whispered so only she could hear, but in her anger, her voice still carried. “Tell me something Priestly; did you have the taste of his cock on your lips when you were kissing me?” Her voice was cold and brutal.

Miranda reared back, hands tightening around the Champagne glass in her hand until she felt it cracking. She wanted with everything in her being to strike the woman, but she wouldn’t cause a scene. Instead, she met the woman’s eyes head on.

“Why yes, and it was the only thing that made it even remotely bearable.”

“Oh god.” Serena swore under her breath.

“Well fuck me.” Cristi shook his head.

Andy was stunned into silence, completely and utterly frozen. “You low born bitch.” She gritted.

“You highborn bastard.” Miranda countered with just as much vitriol.

“Enough!” Ainslie snapped. Disbelief coating her words as she watched the two shaking with barely restrained rage. “Whatever is happening here, it is neither the time nor the place. Cristi, Nigel, take Miranda to the other side of the room, we don’t want to draw gossiping ears. You.” She snapped her fingers at the editor’s date, who stood there gaping. “Go and get her another drink.” After dismissing him, she turned to her daughter. “Serena, Emily, take my daughter to the balcony to cool off.”

With that, they dispersed to their assigned duties, leaving their parents to look at each other in incredulity.

“What happened yesterday that would cause that?” Malthe stroke his beard as he watched them walk away.

“A thin line between love and hate they say.” Danari mused with a shake of her head.

“WE need to fix this, they can’t…they’re perfect for each other.”

“My love, whatever is the matter between them, they need to work it out themselves. Promise me, promise me you won’t get involved.” Richard eyed the Scot who looked ready to refuse.

“He’s right darling.” Asta wrapped an arm around her friend’s shoulder. “This is between them, and only they can work it out.”

She sighed in frustration. “Fine. Fine. I hear you.”

_____________________________

“Miranda, I hope you take this as it sounds, but what the actual fuck?” Nigel spun his friend to face him.

“You forget yourself.” She growled.

“No I don’t. I’m not talking to my boss La Priestly. I’m talking to my best friend Miranda Priestly who is actively fucking up the best relationship she’s ever had and it wasn’t even an  _ actual  _ relationship to begin with!”

“Nigel-”

“No Miranda! That was fucked up, what you did. Carrying him to the house? Kissing him and rubbing it in Andy’s face. Damn Miranda, I always knew you could be a piece of work but this is a new low even for you!”

“So what she did to me doesn’t matter?! Once again, I’m the bad guy when they leave me!? Am I so unlovable that someone hurts me and it’s still my fault!?”

“I-What?” Nigel frowned at her outburst.

It was the way her eyes shone as if glistening with tears that really brought him up short. Fortunately, Cristi had the foresight to carry them to a secluded room, away from prying eyes and ears. Just as quickly as the outburst came, it vanished. She straightened her shoulders and steeled her eyes. She would not give Andrea the victory of making her breakdown like some vapid, insipid, heartbroken moron.

“Andrea has made her choice, and I have made mine.”

“I don’t understand. You wear it,” He gestured at the editor’s neck. “but you doubt her intentions.” He shook his head. “I am confused.”

“What are you talking about?” Nigel watched as his boyfriend pulled his bow tie loose and then the first two buttons.

‘L’amato, that is what the piece is called.” He saw Miranda’s confusion as her hand drifted over the precious gems. “She didn’t tell you?”

Miranda didn’t answer, but he could see it in her eyes. She didn’t know. He swore under his breath, before tilting his head back and rubbing his eyes.

“I love her to pieces, but she’s an idiota.” He sighed before looking at them both, debating whether he should say anything, but when he thought of what just happened outside, how they were both hurting, he wouldn’t,  _ couldn’t  _ allow it to continue if it was within his power to do something about it. “L’amato, ‘The Beloved’ was a gift from the first Duke of Milan to his wife some six hundred years ago.” Miranda clutched them tighter. She knew that they were old, but she hadn’t realized she had been wearing history around her neck. “He met her walking through a market one day, she was a fishmonger’s daughter, a commoner of the lowest kind, but as soon as he laid eyes on her –hacking away at what her father brought– he was mesmerized. He wanted no other, but when he approached her, she would not have him. So he spent months wooing her, even amidst the protest from his family and against the advice of his counselors, he persisted, but she wouldn’t budge. He eventually earned her heart –by different ways depending on who tells it – but still, he had her love, and she has his devotion. But as I said, she was a commoner, so in order for the King to sign off on the marriage, he had to settle a brutal unrest. It took him five years, but she waited and when he returned, he gave that to her. It was a gift from a Hindustan Sultan whose life he had saved. And now, after the succession of every Duke, he gifts it to his wife on their wedding night. It is a symbol of equality, of devotion, of unwavering love. The legends says that the marriage of every Duchess who wears it will never break, will never shatter and will bind their souls together for seven life times.”

Miranda and Nigel were watching him with unwavering eyes. The editor’s knuckles had gone pale as they clutched the jewels even tighter.

“She never-”

“I can’t believe she never told you that when she gave it to you.” He sighed in frustration.

“I-” She cleared her throat and turned away. “It doesn’t matter.” She reached to the back and freed the latch. Looking down at what should have been the most precious gift she’s ever received apart from her children, “Maybe in another lifetime…” She stretched out her hand, waiting for him to take. “…but not this one.”

“Miranda-” Nigel began.

“That’s all.” She said waiting for her hand to be free of the weight of Andrea’s frivolous affections.

“I can’t take that.” Cristi’s voice hardened. She was just as stubborn as Andy. “You’ll have to give it back yourself.”

She withdrew her hand, and then dropped the necklace into her clutch purse. “I will.”

Cristi scoffed. “You’re even more hard headed then her.”

Refusing to respond, she pushed past the two men. “If you’ll excuse me, I must go powder my nose.” And with that she was off, leaving the two men to stare after her in exasperation.

___________________________

“What the bloody hell is going on? Did you do something to Miranda?! I’ve never seen her act like this, even when she walked in on that arsehole Stephen shagging someone in their bed!” Emily felt like tearing her hair out, groaning, she realized work would be completely unbearable, almost impossible to deal with.

“Em, calm down.” Serena soothed.

“No, shan’t. Not when everything just went bullocks up!” She turned to the woman who was gripping the balcony ledge and staring down as if she were uncovering the secrets of the universe. “Look, Andy, you’ll have to be the one to fix this. Just apologize, grovel, do something!”

Andy threw her head back and laughed, humourless and dry. “Me? I should be the one to apologize? I should grovel and beg and plead, like some pathetic moron while she flaunts around with her-” She slammed her hand against the stone ledge before turning around to face them, her shoulders straight and tight, and her eyes narrowed and hard. “I am Westminster,” She stepped forward. “A Blackwater, the Duchess of Milan and Countess of House Bielke, I refuse, _refuse_ to wallow and debase myself in front of _that woman_ , while she sneers and laughs. I have had _enough!_ ”

“I know, I know.” Emily sighed. “It’s just that, she’s not used to, to expressing herself properly, to communicating, especially,  _ especially _ when she had been hurt.”

‘I have done everything right! I have given her everything! She wears ‘L’amato damn it! Shall I give her my soul as well!?”

“Yes!” Emily yelled.

“No!” Andy countered. “Not when she wouldn’t give me hers in return.”

“Andy-” Serena reached forward.

Andy held up her hands quickly. She didn’t want to be touched. “I need to go to the ladies room.” And with that, she was off.

“They are both so stubborn!” Emily snapped while leaning on the barrier.

“That may be so, but she isn’t wrong. Miranda…what she is doing, it isn’t right. She’s hurting them both.”

“Bloody hell man.”

“Let’s hope she realizes before the damage is irreparable.”

__________________

Andy swung the door of the private restroom, causing it to bang against the door violently. Stalking to the mirror, she hadn’t realized that she wasn’t alone until the sound of rushing water greeted her. In the mirror, her eyes made contact with none other than the current bane of her existence.

She would not allow her to incite her into a commotion. She turned on the faucet and began washing her hands. The tension in the room was so thick it was almost stifling. The silence was as loud as the dropping of a bomb. Her eyes widened when she realized something was missing from the editor, something important.

Miranda had been jolted from her thoughts by the bang, ready to verbally eviscerate the person who was intruding on her privacy. She was almost sure she had locked the door when she entered, but alas it seemed that that wasn’t the case.

“Where is it?”

The voice froze her movements and her thoughts.

“Where is what?” She found herself asking against her better judgment.

“The necklace.” Andrea’s voice was clipped and cold, far beyond anything she has ever directed at Miranda.

“Ah, your little trinket?” She smirked. “I gave it away.”

There was a moment of silence, when only the rushing of water was heard before Andrea spoke. She spoke in a voice that could quale hearts.

“I am not in a gaming mood Miranda. Where is it?”

They stared at each other before Miranda turned, wiping at the edge of her lips. “The girls and I will be out of your house by midday tomorrow.”

The change of topic threw Andy for a moment and she sputtered. “What?” It never once occurred to her –even in the midst of this battle royale– that Miranda would ever actually leave…and to take the girls…

“I’ll have Emily arrange for movers to come and get our things in the morning. They should finish by midday.” She said disinterestedly. No way was she going back under the same roof as Andrea. She couldn’t... wouldn’t bear it. What if one day she brought Nadia or someone else back to the apartment? Surely, that would kill her.

“You’re leaving? And taking the... you can’t-”

“I can and I will.” She snapped. “Our assistants can arrange a schedule where we can both see the children.” She refused to think about how much they sounded like divorcing parents, but she didn’t want their stupid mistakes to break their hearts. “But I never want to see or speak to you again.”

“Will you be going back to the townhouse? Or have you decided to shack up with… _ Andrew _ ?” She sneered his name.

“I don’t see how that is any of your business.”

“It is when you’re leaving with my-!”

“Your what!? What am I leaving with that’s yours?!”

_ ‘My family.’ _

“Nothing. You’re free to do as you wish.”

Miranda smirked. “Of course.” As she turned, a hand stilled her movements. Looking at her shoulder, where the hand of the woman she had thought she adored laid. She shrugged it off, turned and thrust the precious jewelry at the brunette’s chest, watching as she caught it before it fell to the floor. “You’ve given yourself to another;” She said lowly. “I’ll not have you again.” Before she walked through the door, she turned. “Oh, by the way, don’t wait up tonight. Andrew and I have… _plans_.” She smirked then walked out.

Andy stood there, watching the door click closed, her hands tightening around the gift with a vice grip. “Apples.” She whispered, feeling her throat close up.

_ ‘Doesn’t she see I’m hurting?’ _

___________________

It had been a few days since Cristi’s launch. The night went swimmingly apart Andy and Miranda’s little war. The artists had out done themselves, the building and the visuals were stunning. It was safe to say that New York was still buzzing from the excitement.

Miranda, true to her word, hadn’t returned home that night. Andrea had drunk herself to stupor as she waited by the foyer until dawn broke. The elevators hadn’t dinged once.

She had pulled herself off the ground, stumbled into the shower then went to work. She hadn’t been home since.

The children weren’t talking to their parents, no surprise there. They weren’t sure which was to blame for their mess as both Miranda and Andy refused to speak about it, so as far as the four were concerned, they were both to blame. Even little Azza refused to go to his Mama or his Fairy Queen.

They had opted to stay at the hotel with the grandparents until they left for the continent. They hadn’t thought of where they would go after that, but they hoped their parents would work it out before then. Miranda had reluctantly agreed when she saw them clinging to each other with tears pouring down their cheeks. It was her own fault for allowing her daughters to get so attached.

Everyone was worried to say the least. The two had buried themselves in their work and if not for their trusted friends, they wouldn’t eat…or sleep.

The Runway staff were strained and at their wits end. Several had opted to jump ship and quit, others had already booked their stays in ‘wellness’ spas for their mental health. Miranda was driving them mercilessly with an iron fist and no remorse or consideration. The words ‘run ragged’ was now common place throughout the halls of the magazine with ‘incompetent morons’ following as a close second.

The editor channeled her frustration with laser focus and intensity. The dragon had risen to majestic heights of snarling impatience. No one could do anything right. Even her trusted right hands, Emily and Nigel felt the brunt of it. The fact that the object of her ire stalked the floors above her only pushed her further, a fact that had Human Resources at the end of their rope. As soon as they approved a hiring, they had to approve a termination in the very same ink.

Everyone was walking on eggshells, and the term ‘sleep’ became as elusive as a leprechaun on a rainbow unicorn flying in the sky sprinkling world peace. The white-haired editor refused to acknowledge how far she was pushing her people. She underestimated Andrea’s hold over her, how much she depended on that smile to get her through the day, how her laugh and smirk eased the tension from her shoulder.

Now she found everything unbearable. They hadn’t spoken once since that night. No calls, no texts, not even a glance as they passed each other in the lobby that one time. The more she thought about it, the fiercer she became. The woman hadn’t even offered a lousy apology, not that Miranda would have accepted it of course…but still…nothing?

She quickly shook herself from such thoughts. It would be no use. She didn’t want to lose herself down that rabbit hole.

__________________________

Andrea sat in her office with a similar problem on her hand. It was fortunate that her floor only had Serena, Cristi and a few other execs on it because their illustrious CEO seemed to be on a warpath. There were multiple times where either Serena or Cristi had to send her to her office –discretely of course, they never challenged each other in public, always a united front. She was snarling and snapping at anyone who even remotely irritated her one-minute, and the next she would coldly eviscerate, so much so that it left everyone in hearing range wincing and scurrying away.

Her temper was boiling over, and she found herself almost coming to blows when the elevator doors opened one evening and she came face to face with a waiting _Andrew_ , standing there with that smarmy smile and a dozen red roses. Serena had to physically pull her away when she subconsciously lunged, while Cristi pushed the closed button with such intensity he was sure he broke it, closing the doors on the now frowning man.

She was up in a flash, pacing the room, furious that she had lost control of herself. Though the beating would have been satisfying and cathartic, she couldn’t be bothered with tiresome lawsuits right now…or the smug look on Miranda’s face when she found out she had gotten under her skin so deeply.

_ ‘ "This was it wasn’t it? This was how it would all end.’  _ She refused to be the one to make the first step at reconciliation, not when it was obviously not her fault, but she also knew hell would freeze over and she would sooner see a leprechaun on a rainbow unicorn than Miranda ever admitting her stupidity and trying to fix what she had broken.

The editor would ignore it until she had successfully buried every ounce of emotion and feeling. She would pretend that nothing ever happened, and who was Andy to deny her, her high horse? She needed to burn off her frustration and as much as she despised the woman, she couldn’t stomach another’s touch –unlike the arsehole down stairs–so, her usual method of fucking the frustration away was out of the question. She needed to hit something.

Pushing the intercom, she waited until her assistant answered before speaking. “Hold all calls and meetings for the rest of the day. I’m going to the gym.” She hung up before the woman could respond. Moving to the closet in the private bedroom on the other side of her closet, she grabbed her gear bag before storming out and down the hall.

Serena watched her pass the glass walls of her lab. The woman was scowling, her eyes focused ahead as loiterers dove out of the way, not wanting to be in the path of the woman who could explode at any moment.

The blonde leaned back in her chair, a pensive frown on her face. After a little digging, things had become clear and she realized with a stark realization that…those two were both idiots. She rolled her eyes before shooting a text to Emily. When the response came just as quickly, she shrugged out of her white coat, changed her shoes and headed down the hall.

_____________________

Miranda had just returned from the worst run through of her life, a complete and utter waste of time, human resources and material. She had relayed those sentiments to the designer –and she used the term loosely– before she stormed out in a flurry of Prada sunglasses and Dolce faux fur.

She needed a moment, a moment to sit in her office with no distractions and decompress. Those little moments were the only thing keeping her from unleashing the full extent of ire on her employees. They had thought they were getting the full dose, but they had no idea.

As she stepped through the doors, she stilled when her chair swiveled around to reveal one Serena Van Visser. The woman watched the editor with unnerving certainty. Her eyes were sharp and knowing, holding within them a sort of intelligence and understanding that would make one feel naked and exposed if subject to it for too long. Miranda met her eyes unwaveringly. She didn’t know why the woman was in her office, but she sure as hell wouldn’t be intimidated.

“If Andrea sent-”

“She doesn’t know I’m here.”

“Then why are-”

“You’ve always struck me as intelligent Miranda. You see more than you let on. You’re more cunning, calculating and sharp than most give you credit for. So…” She tapped her lips in deep thought, her head tilted to the side as she watched the woman with narrowed eyes. “Colour me surprised when you acted with nothing but speculation and nonsense.”

Miranda’s eyes widened briefly before narrowing _. ‘So she knew as well.’_ “I know what I saw.” She hissed.

“No you don’t.” Serena leaned back in the chair and crossed her legs. “I like you Miranda, I have from the moment I met you, there was…something…” She trailed off lost in thought before continuing. “But I love Andrea. She is my sister in everything but name and blood. I am throwing you this lifeline. Just this once.” She rose to her feet. “You fuck it up again, and you will have the might of three Houses on your arse.” She walked passed the woman before throwing over her shoulder. “Check your email.” She shot Emily a wink before heading to the elevators.

There, her part was done. It was up to the two morons to work it out now.

Miranda swallowed, shaking her head in annoyance, before turning to close her door.

“Emily, I’m not to be disturbed. That’s all.”

“Yes Miranda.”

The editor unbuttoned her jacket before curiosity got the better of her and she flipped her laptop open. She pulled up her browser and clicked on her private email icon. Within moments she spotted the email Serena referred to. It was a video. She frowned before clicking play. She reached for her bottle of Pellegrino as her stomach rolled when she saw Andy scribbling away around her desk. Within seconds, Nadia had entered the room and Miranda almost cracked the glass bottle with how intensely she gripped it. As she watched the events unfold and heard the audio, her knees gave out.

Fortunately, her chair caught her before she fell to the ground. She couldn’t move. Her eyes were riveted to the screen and she felt them well up even as a trail of water leaked from her lips as her jaw had gone lax. Her heart hammered unpleasantly in her chest as the world spun round her. The only thing that kept her grounded was the echo of her own thoughts as she gasped for breath. _‘Oh god! Oh god! What have I done?!’_

__________________

Miranda fidgeted at the door of Andrea’s office. In every relationship she’s ever had, she was never the pursuer, never the one to make the grand ‘heartfelt’ apology, never the one to admit when she was wrong. So as she stood there at almost midnight with dinner packaged elegantly and a bouquet of flowers, she was at a complete loss about what to do.

She wouldn’t blame the woman if she never spoke to her again. What she did was unforgivable, beyond heinous. She felt sick just thinking about it. Even if this didn’t work, she wouldn’t stop trying. She wouldn’t stop trying until Andrea looked at her with that impish smile and mischievous eyes. She couldn’t believe she had been so foolish…so ridiculous. It was as clear as day, but she had allowed her own insecurities and mistrust to get the better of her and now look at what she had done.

She knew that the CEO was working. She hardly ever went home anymore, choosing to stay and work through the night before getting up, showering and starting the cycle all over again.

She cleared her throat and stepped over the threshold.

Andrea’s hand stilled for a second before she continued writing, refusing to look up.

“Andrea?” She called out uncertain, but again, the woman hadn’t looked up.

Miranda blew her signature lock from her eye. Of course it wouldn’t be easy. She made her way into the room and set the cooler and warmer unto the glass coffee table. Then she slowly, as if approaching a scared wild animal, made her way to her lover’s desk with flowers in hand.

“Andrea?”

“What. Do. you. want. Miranda?” Her voice was…dead. It was dead and cold and the editor felt like weeping.

“I came to,” She swallowed, then took a deep breath. “I came to apologize to you. For everything that I did, for the words that I said to you. I just…I’m just so sorry.”

“Okay.” She still hadn’t looked up.

“Okay?”

“Yes, okay. You may go now. I have work to do.”

“Andrea…Andy…”

Andy stilled. It was the first time she’d used her ‘ridiculous nickname’ as the editor had called it, and she felt like crying.

“Andy, please. Look at me, give me a chance to fix this…please.”

“You’ve apologized. It’s done. Now go.” She wouldn’t allow the woman back in. That was just a recipe for disaster.

“Look at me damn it!”  In a moment of desperation, Miranda shouted and slammed her hand against the desk.

Andrea was up in a flash. Her nostrils flared and her breathing heavy. “You don’t raise your voice at me! You don’t act like the victim when you’re in the wrong! You don’t tell me what to do! Ever! Now get out before I have security throw you out!”

At one time Miranda would have called the bluff, but now she wasn’t sure. If she didn’t push now, then she knew for a fact that she would lose the woman forever. They were both too stubborn for their own good.

“I’m not leaving.” She arched her neck. “Not until you hear me out.”

“I am not obligated to listen to you or to accept your apology so that you can feel better for being a shite human Miranda.”

“I know. I know, and I’m not asking you to accept. I just need you to hear me out. Please.” She moved to hold Andrea’s hand but the woman pulled away sharply before grabbing her briefcase and shoving papers into it. “What are you doing?”

“Since you refuse to leave, then I will. I don’t want to hear your voice. I don’t want to see your face. Whatever this was between us, it is dead! So go back to your fuck boy and leave me be!”

She rounded the table, grabbed the flowers and threw it into the trash. Before she stepped through the doors Miranda raced to her, dove and wrapped her arms around her tightly. A sob wrecked her body, so powerful was it that Andy felt it shake through her body as though it were her own. AS the heart-wrenching sobs echoed in the room, Miranda’s tears inevitably followed. Andy could feel the wetness of them seeping through the material at the back of her shirt, threatening to wash away her remaining resolve.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” She held on tighter, even as Andy struggled to get away. Her own tears pooling at the sound of the other woman’s cry.

She clutched the hands that were latched together, stilling her movement. The feel of the woman’s skin under her fingers almost brought her down. She couldn’t do this, she couldn’t. She grabbed Miranda’s hands with both of hers, wrenching free but careful not to actually hurt the woman. Miranda continue chanting "I'm sorry" over and over, her voice was hoarse and broke with every syllable she uttered. Every break was like a crack and tear at Andy's heart, ripping it down to shreds. Then she did what no person from her pedigree would do.

She fled.

She ran passed the elevators, and shot down flight after flight of stairs. She needed to get out of here. She had to stay away from the woman. She had too much sway over her. She realized that when she sat up all night, waiting in disbelief, her mind drifting to what Miranda and Andrew’s plans entailed, yet her feet refused to move.

Rain was pouring outside, lightning flashed and thunder roared. She rushed past the doorman with the waiting umbrella and into the onslaught of water. As her town car pulled up, she tugged her coat closer.

“Andrea for god’s sake stop!” A voice rang out behind her.

She turned her head and watched as Miranda ran out into the rain after her. Her white hair flopped unto her head as the water soaked it through.The tears that streamed down her face was now enmeshed with the rain. Andy's heart tightened. Even when she's such a mess, even when it's raining, and her make up is slightly ruined, the woman was still so breathtaking, heartbreaking and utterly beautiful.

“Before you leave, I just wanted you to know that I feel empty without you. I can’t stand waking up without you by my side. I know that what I did was idiotic, but there’s nothing I want more than to see you happy again. I am so sorry for causing you…” She took a breath. “…so much pain.”

“Miranda please.”

“I saw you.”

Andy frowned. “Saw me? Saw me do what?”

“That day. I came to your office to, to bring you lunch and there you were... with Nadia and I… I was a fool.”

“Nadia?” Andrea drew back, her face a flurry of confusion, then disbelief and finally rage, pure blinding rage. “This was all because of Nadia!? Why didn’t you just fucking say something instead of…of…”

Miranda had never felt more like an idiot than right now. “I know! I know I’ve been an idiot! But that’s what I’m trying to tell you. I know now and I’m so sorry.”

“You’ve already said that!” Andy snapped. 

“What do you want me to say!? ” She yelled into the rain, while running her hand through her hair, brushing away the strands that were stuck to her forehead. “That I was a bitter old fool who allowed herself to become blinded by her insecurities?! I saw her, her arms wrapped around you and I lost it! I couldn’t see past it! All I knew in that moment was that my heart was breaking and I’m Miranda  _ fucking _ Priestly, whenever my heart is broken or I feel too much, I go on the defensive. And I lash out! I hurt them before they can hurt me!” She gasped, realizing that for the first time in years, no decades, she’d allowed herself to feel, to feel so overwhelmingly that she had raised her voice. She could tell that she had stunned Andrea as the woman stood gaping at the realization that she had never heard Miranda truly yell or lose her temper.

“Then why didn’t you just talk to me?!” Andy huffed in frustration.

“And say what?! That you’re mine and I don’t want anyone else to have you?!” Her voice rose in incredulity.

“Yes! That was better than the shite you pulled! At least then, I’d have known where we stood with each other!”

“What if she laughed me out of the room? What if she looked at me...and her eyes were mocking and then she turned to kiss the person who could give her what she wanted? What-” She choked, bring her hand up to cover her sob at the memory. “What if she didn’t want me...not in the way I wanted her?”

“I don’t under-”

“Standing there...watching you…” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “I couldn’t think of anything else. I hadn’t, I hadn’t even realised that I had been waiting for the other shoe to drop. I have been bracing myself, waiting for the day you realized that you could do better than a...a poor opinionated Jewish girl from some backwater, hicksville middle of nowhere town and, and left me.”

Andy stood there, eyeing the woman incredulously. 

“I know. I know.” Miranda released a self-deprecating laugh. “Who would have thought  _ ‘La Priestly’, ‘the Devil of Runway’ _ , actually had feelings?”

“I never doubted that Miranda.” Andy said softly then stuffed her hands into the pocket of her coat, before thinking better of it and taking it off. She then slowly made her way to Miranda, who was shivering under the cold onslaught and tugged it around the editor’s shoulders, securing it before dropping her hands and taking a step back. “You forget, I’ve seen you laugh with the girls, comfort Azza when he was hurting, hell, I see the pride on your face whenever Ducky so much as opens his mouth. I know you’re capable of giving so much. I just...I just wanted you to give some to me.”

Miranda clung to the coat for dear life, maybe it was the smell of the brunette’s signature perfume that still lingered on it despite the rain, or the fact that even in her moment of anger, the other woman still chose to take care of her.  A glimmer of hope of being forgiven by Andy spiked through her heart with the gesture no matter how small it was.

“ You may never forgive me for what I’ve done, but I just want you to know that, that there are no words to express how sorry I am and I promise you that I will do everything,  _ everything _ to make it right again.”

Andrea’s eyes narrowed accusingly. “What about you and Andre-”

“Nothing happened! I swear to you.” Miranda rushed out urgently and sincerely. “I checked myself into a hotel and stayed the night. _Alone_. I haven’t spoken to him since that night.”Her voice grew smaller with each word and her eyes lowered. She needed Andy to believe her with such a desperation that her stomach churned and her fingers grew numb. 

Overhead another crash of thunder rang out and the two flinched under the onslaught of rain.

“I know you may never forgive me-”

Andrea’s lips brush hers. Not innocently like a tease, but hot, fiery, passionate and demanding. Miranda wanted to pull away before she lost herself completely, she wanted to make sure that the woman forgave her, but couldn’t seem to…In this minty moment, her senses were seduced and she could no longer think straight.

“Andrea” she whispers slowly, prolonging each letter as if to savor them. Andrea smiled, her heart fluttering at the editor’s voice as she clasped her hands on either side of her face. Never before has her name ever felt so wonderful. Relief flooded her as they kissed and the world fell away.

It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. Andrea’s hand rested below Miranda’s ear, her thumb caressing her cheek as their breaths mingled. Miranda ran her fingers down the CEO’s spine, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them and she could feel the beating of her heart against her chest.

“Don’t ever do that to me again.” Andrea husked.

Miranda nodded eagerly, desperate to reclaim Andrea’s lips. Andrea pulled back slightly. “Swear it Priestly.”

Miranda blinked at that. ‘Priestly.’ She was on her way to forgiveness then.

“I swear it.”

“You’re mine and I’m yours. That’s it.”

“That’s it.” A blinding smile lit her face.

Andy felt the tension leave her shoulders and an easy tender smile tugged at her lips as she gently brushed Miranda’s cheek with her thumb.

Miranda felt her knees give way and her heart raced.

“Let’s go home.” Andrea whispered as she hovered over the editor’s lips.

With a hum, Miranda reached up on her toes and quickly claimed the other woman’s lips. Kissing her as though they had all the time in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. – B.S.
> 
> P.S. For anyone interested, follow me on tumblr. It's Bastesloan.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings All. I know it has been a while since my last update. I'm grateful to all my well wishers for my exams and I'll have you all know that I've passed my last round of Bar Exams so here's a little chapter as a celebratory nod to those who stuck to the story, commented about how much they've missed it and continued to leave kudos.
> 
> I will try to resume my previous update schedule which was every few days, so no weeks and months long wait any longer.
> 
> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. So here’s another chapter, stay safe and I hope you enjoy. – B.S.

Charlie sat on chase lounge on his grandparent’s balcony. His heart heavy as the bitter taste of anger coated his tongue. Everything was perfect; he had essentially gained two sisters and a woman whom he thought he could one day call Mum. Now everything was ruined. They hated each other and they were going to take his sisters from him, he knew it and it made him so angry. He furiously wiped at the tears that poured from him.

He refused to cry. He refused to answer his mother’s calls; he refused to answer Miranda’s also. He couldn’t bear to hear them say what he knew was coming, that he wasn’t allowed to talk to Miranda anymore, that the twins would no longer be allowed around them.

So his logic was sound. If he didn’t speak to their parents, he could keep them.

“Hey Ducky. Couldn’t sleep?” He recognized Cassidy’s voice.

A sniffle was her only response.

“One of those nights then huh?” She moved to sit beside him. “Me too.”

“Grownups are so stupid.” He gritted.

“Yeah they are.” She pulled him to her.

“We have to fix this Cassy.”

“I…I don’t even know where to start.” She sighed in frustration. “They won’t even tell us what’s wrong. Has Andy told you?”

He shook his head.

“Yeah Mom hasn’t either.”

“This is some shit!” He snapped. “We were so close!”

“I know.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I know.”

“Couldn’t sleep either huh?” A voice called out behind them.

They turned to see Caroline skulking out with Azza on her back, his little legs wrapping as far as they could go around her stomach. “Yeah we either.” She perched on the edge of the lounge, Azza still on her back. “Talking about how Andy and Mom suck?”

The two nodded.

“Yeah.” Much like her sister, she released a frustrated sigh. “I don’t even know where to start. Fixing this I mean.”

“We could tell them that one of is sick or something. They’d be so worried they’d have to come and then they’d meet up and-”

“That seems a bit cruel. Making them worry like that.” Charlie frowned.

“Well what they’re doing to us is cruel!” Caroline snapped.

“Calm down Caro, we’re all hurting, no point spazzing out on us. We’re on the same side here.” Cassidy bumped her shoulder.

With a deep breath, Caroline offered Charlie a quiet ‘sorry’ before laying her head on his shoulder. He patted her cheek without a second thought. All was forgiven; such was the privileges of family.

“Any other ideas?” Cassidy leaned back as she stared up at the starry night.

A groan was her only response.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda’s fingers twitched as she trailed behind Andrea. The younger woman had been silent on the journey back to the penthouse, the tension from her shoulders had eased but there were still a strain around her eyes. The editor could see the bone weary exhaustion that clung to the young CEO, with every sigh or furrow of her brows, Miranda felt her heart clench in sympathy and guilt.

The only reason the editor hadn’t dissolved in a puddle of blubbery was the almost painfully tight hold her Andrea had on her hand. The woman held her as though she feared that she would vanish into a wisp of her imagination, yet she refused to meet her gaze. So here she was, soaking wet and trailing behind the object of her desires.

The elevators dinged and opened to the dark foyer. The children were still seeking refuge with their grandparents and Serena and Cristobal had retreated with their other halves. At the thought of Ainslie, Miranda’s cheeks burned in mortification. Groaning, she remembered the look of shock and disappointment the other woman had stared at her with. Andrea wasn’t the only one whom she needed to make amends to. Her behaviour had been appalling to say the least and a simple apology would not suffice. Not with their children, not with the trios parents and certainly not with Andrea. She had no idea where to even begin.

Huffing to herself, she hadn’t noticed Andrea tugging her through the dark passages and up marbled staircases. She came to when she felt sure hands tug at her coat, dropping to the ground before moving to unbutton her shirt. They were in the brunette’s ensuite. _‘How had they reached there?’_ she thought. Her breath hitched and she quickly reached up to still the hands that had hastily made work of half the buttons, leaving her blouse drooping down her shoulders.

“Wha-?” Her voice sounded hoarse even to her own ears.

Andrea didn’t look up to meet Miranda’s questioning gaze, instead her finger clenched, fisting her shirt so fiercely that the knuckles had whitened. Her jaw tensed.

Her editor swallowed, her hands slowing releasing the brunette’s whose nostrils flared. At this point, Miranda would’ve given Andrea anything. Anything to chase away the haunted look from her eyes.

Andrea still hadn’t spoken. Even as she tugged at Miranda’s trousers and pulled at her underwear, leaving the woman bare. The CEO stood before her, fully clothed and breathing heavily as her eyes raked from her well-manicured toes, to the gentle curve of her hips, up to the generous swell of her breasts. The editor refused to squirm under the brunette’s scrutinizing gaze. She arched her neck and tilted her chin. Finally, Andrea met her gaze.

She had prided herself on being able to read other. She had built a career out of it after all. The ability to tell what a person wanted or desired before they even realized, or better yet, she was equipped with the finesse of making others believe that what she gave them was exactly what they wanted. She had honed it to an art, but now, now, she had no idea what was rattling around in her younger lover’s mind.

Her eyes were like a fortress and it refused Miranda’s poking and prodding. Instead, the woman spun on her heels and walked to the state of the art shower. Pushing multiple buttons until the sound of the powerful water pressure drowned out their heavy breathing; within moment, the room was filled with a gentle steam.

Miranda watched as Andrea slowly tugged out of her own clothes before walking to the entrance of the glass doors. Before she stepped inside, she turned and stretched her open palm out.

“Come.”

Miranda’s breath hitched as she ran her hand through her soaked hair, brushing the strands that flopped unto her forehead. Without hesitation, she covered the expanse of the room in four strides and fiercely clutched the outstretched hand as though her life depended on it.

She watched a gentle smile tug at the corner of Andrea’s lips. The brunette walked backwards into the relaxing onslaught of warm water shooting from every direction, pulling her to her until they pressed against each other.

Miranda instinctively wrapped her arms around the other woman’s waist who responded in kind, wrapping her own arms around Miranda’s shoulders and gently nuzzling her nose into her hair, the sigh of relief that escaped the brunette’s lips dispelled the tension that lingered between them.

Andrea held her lover for what felt like hours, swaying gently with the pulsing water. Reaching up, she tilted Miranda’s chin then gently pressed their foreheads against each other. She could feel the editor’s breath on her lips but instead of leaning down to close the space between them, she brushed her nose against Miranda’s own.

The editor felt her eyes well with tears and as Andrea pressed a kiss to her forehead, the floodgates broke and she clung tighter as a gut-wrenching sob tore through her.

“None of that Priestly.” Andy crooned, lightly brushing at the editor’s cheek.

Miranda couldn’t believe she was crying again like a simpering school girl, but the tenderness in Andrea’s eyes, the gentleness of her touch, when she thought about what she could have so easily lost, her heart clenched and the tears sprung.

“Andrea I’m so-”

“No more apologies. I’m tired of apologies baby.”

Miranda snorted through her tears before arching her brows imperiously as Andrea continued wiping at her cheek, shooting her that ‘cat who ate the canary’ grin that made her week in the knees.

“Who said you could call me that?” She poked the other woman’s side who huffed out a laugh.

“Abuse already Priestly?”

“See what happens if you call me that again” Blue eyes narrowed.

“Baby.” She pulled Miranda closer to her. “Baby.” She pressed a kiss to her jaw. “Baby.” She husked once more before brushing her lips to the spot just under her ear.

“Tease.” Miranda hummed with an airy lightness. Her body buzzed with excitement that she hadn’t felt since walking down Andrea’s corridors with lunch that horrible day.

“You deserve it.” Amusement coated Andy’s voice.

Miranda’s head fell to Andy’s chest. “Ugh.” She groaned. “I know.”

Andy laughed lowly before yawning so loud her jaw cracked.

“I’m naked and wet in front of you and you're yawning? Am I boring you already Andrea?” Miranda crossed her arms, her voice dry as she peered up at the other woman.

“Har, har.” Andy rolled her eyes. “You _know_ that’s not it.” She slapped Miranda’s backside with an impish grin. The other woman shot her a look of exasperation to which Andy promptly ignored. “I haven’t slept in…” She ran a hand through her hair. “Damn I don’t even remember how long.” She couldn’t remember when last she slept in her own bed. Her mind and body yearned for the woman and the more she had tried focusing on other things, the more it had double downed with thoughts of her white haired vixen.

Miranda brushed the back of her hand across the brunette’s cheek. “Let’s get you to bed hmm?”

Andy leaned into Miranda’s touch; her eyes fluttering close as she inhaled deeply. Soaking up the warmth of the water, the two made quick work of their shower before wrapping themselves in oversized fluffy towels. Andy took a smaller cloth and plopped it over the editor’s head before toweling the excess water from it. Her smile widened when Miranda peaked from beneath the limp hair, a playful glare narrowing her eyes.

“Stop trying to be cute. I want to sleep remember?”

The editor’s eyes widened in indignation at the word. “I am not, nor will I ever be _cute_.” She spat the word as though the very taste of it offended her sensibilities.

“You and I both know that’s not true.” She laughed when Miranda tried blowing a strand that swayed over her eye.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Andy wrapped her arms around Miranda as they laid in silence. She knew the other woman hadn’t fallen sleep as yet, her breathing hadn’t even out and she could still feel her fingers twitching slightly.

“I can hear you thinking.” Andy whispered.

“I’m not insecure.” Miranda murmured.

Andy frowned. “Wha-?”

“I don’t want you to think I am. I’m proud of who I am, I’m comfortable in my skin and I’ve never, _never_ been jealous type in a relationship.”

“I kn-”

“But when I’m with you, I turn into this, this moron, who can’t control her emotions.”

“You don’-”

“Maybe it’s because you have history with her, or because she was touching you, I’ve never been so furious. _Ever_.”

“Nothing happ-”

“I could wring that bitch’s neck.” Miranda snapped, as she snuggled deeper into Andrea’s embrace.

“Of cour-”

“I let it get under my skin because I didn’t trust you.”

“Why the hell no-”

“Then I realized I did trust you. I was just…just scared. You have reputation Andrea.”

The other woman groaned. “I know but-”

“So it’s not completely unreasonable that I would jump to such conclusions. You have given yourself so frequently over the years.”

“Now look here wom-”

“But I know you, don’t I?”

“Yes of-”

“Of course I do. I know that you would never betray me, never hurt me.” She continued musing on as though Andy hadn’t spoken once.

“I swear i-”

“I will trust you, trust in our family. I’ve seen the way you look at me, I never understood before, but, but now I know and I’ll not allow anything to jeopardize this. _Never_ again.”

Andy remained silent, waiting for the other woman to continue. When Miranda remained silent, she thought it safe to speak.

“Mir-”

“I’ll have to find a way to make it up to the children and god your mother.” She winced.

“They’ll be fi-”

“We’ll need to go to them in the morning.”

“Yes dea-”

Miranda quickly sat up, jerking from Andy’s grasp and turning on the younger woman who tried desperately to blink the fatigue from her eyes. “Andrea I have been speaking for the last fifteen minutes, have you nothing to contribute?”

Andy gaped at her then rolled her eyes. “If you would stop to list-”

Miranda gasped before flicking on the bedside lamp. “Andrea!”

“Dear god, will I ever sleep again?” Andy groaned.

“This is not the time for sleep.”

“It literally is Miranda. It 2 am, by definition it _is_ the time for sleep.”

Ignoring the younger woman, Miranda reached for her neck. “My necklace, where is it?” Her eyes grew wild. She had only just remembered the heirloom she had so unceremoniously dropped into Andrea’s hands in anger.

“Necklace?” Andrea was deliberately obtuse.

“L’amato, where is it? I want it back.”

Narrowing her eyes at her, Andy huffed before flipping over and tugging the duvet over her head.

“Andrea! Now is not the time for dramatics.”

“You gave it back remember? It’s mine now.”

Miranda sputtered. “You can’t, you can’t- It’s mine!”

“Not anymore.”

Miranda whacked the covered figured with her pillow. “Andrea Sachs!”

“Miranda Priestly!”

Miranda huffed before attempting another avenue. “Andy darling.” She purred.

Andy peeked out from under the covers, her brows furrowed in suspicion. “What are you doing?”

Miranda threw her leg over the brunette, straddling her stomach as she raked a finger down Andy’s cheek, pulling the covers down as her finger trailed down the other woman’s chest.

“Are you trying to seduce me?” Amusement fought with suspicion as Andrea’s eyes crinkled.

“Is it working?” She could taste her triumph.

“Always.” Andy palmed her arse. “You’re still not getting it though.”

“Why you-” She tugged Andy up by her collar, bringing her so close their noses grazed each other. “You promised me seven lifetimes. Do you deny me now?”

Andy gulped, her eyes flickering to the editor’s lips before meeting her eyes, eyes that shone in determination. Andy searched through those arctic blues, before feeling a fire ignite within her what she found. She gripped the editor’s backside with one hand before pulling herself from her bed; Miranda locked her ankles around the aristocrat’s waist with a very girlish squeal.

Moving across the room with Miranda clinging to her body, the woman whispered. “You never heard that.”

“Heard what?” Andy grinned when Miranda hummed in agreement. She then punched the codes for her wall safe. When the metal doors clicked open, she reached inside, pulling out L’amato.

The precious jewel glistened under the mediocre light of the bed lamp. Miranda reached for it, her fingers burning to hold the precious gift. Swearing it would never leave her again. Just as her fingers grazed it, Andrea pulled it back quickly. Miranda’s head snapped to the woman in accusation.

“Seven lifetimes Miranda. Swear it.”

Miranda pulled the woman to her by the neck, capturing her lips in a searing kiss that left the brunette panting, her hand tightening on the editor.

Miranda reached out, closing her hand around Andy’s that still held the heirloom. “I swear it in this life and all the rest.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you sure about this?” Andy murmured as they waited in the lift.

“Of course.” Miranda tugged at her collar and fixed her sleeve. The slight fidgeting was a testament to her nerves, not that Andrea would ever call her out on it.

“But a family meeting? Are you sure it’s the right move Priestly?”

“Of course I’m right, when have I ever been wrong?”

Andrea scoffed and shot her a look of disbelief.

“Yes, yes.” She flickered her wrist. “The _one_ time.”

“It was a pretty big ‘ _one time’_ Priestly.”

Miranda grew quiet.

“Hey.” Andy tugged at her sleeve, before wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “It’ll be okay. United front and all that.”

Miranda sighed before pressing a light kiss to Andy cheek. She was never one for such affectionate gestures, but whenever Andrea was within her vicinity it took everything within her not to reach out and touch her. So, she found it easier to give in rather than fight the inevitable.

When the doors dinged, they stepped out and was greeted by the sound of gleeful children. The slowly made their way into the massive suit where Ainslie and the others had called home since their arrival.

The children were huddled together playing some video game against Richard and Malthe, while the others were seated at a dining table, sipping tea and laughing.

Miranda cleared her throat, drawing the eyes of the occupants of the room. Everyone stilled, the only sound that remained was the low hum of the television.

"I would-” She cleared her throat before tilting her head slightly. “I would like a moment to speak to you all.”

Caroline scoffed. “About what? How much you’re both asses?”

“Caroline!”

“Caro!”

The screams of her name by every adult and child in the room caused the girl to wince, but she held steadfast, eyeing her mother with a narrowed frown.

“Caroline Priestly, you apologize to your mother right now.” Andy stepped forward, her eyes meeting the girls unflinchingly.

The girl blinked rapidly before turning way and muttering a low ‘sorry’

“What was that?” Andy snapped.

“I’m sorry Mom that was rude and uncalled for.”

Miranda gave her daughter’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “All is forgiven, but you will still be punished.”

The girl groaned but nodded, knowing from the scandalized looks from everyone, she deserved it.

Miranda then turned to face the room. “I know that my behavior these last few days has put a strain on you all and I would like to, to, apologize for my actions. It was, was undeserving and downright cruel and I have hurt you all, especially your four.” He turned to the children who eyed her with suspicion. “I never want any of you to feel like we’re destroying out family. I know that’s why you haven’t been answering my calls Charles.” The boys cheeks reddened, but he met her gaze without waver. “I will do my utmost, to, to remedy my mistakes. I just hope that you-” She turned her head and swallowed back the onslaught of emotions that bubbled within her. She didn’t want to make this about her, they needed to hear that she understood the severity of what she had done and that she more sorry than they would ever realize. “I’m so, so sorry my babies.” She whispered to them.

Azza was the first to break. He saw the glisten in his Fairy Queen’s eyes and couldn’t stop himself. He promptly burst into tears at the thought that she was sad and ran head first at her feet, causing the woman to almost buckle at the surprise weight.

“Don’t cwy Mama pease!!” He screamed as tears gushed from him. He had always been such a sensitive boy. He hadn’t even realize that he hadn’t called her by the usual moniker of Fairy Queen, so strong were his feelings he had done what felt natural. “No cwy!”

Miranda felt her throat bob as she reached down to pull him up into her arms. “Hush now my little prince. Everything will be fine. I’m not crying.” She brushed his hair from his eyes and gave him a wobbly smile. “See. No tears my sweet boy.”

Charlie inched closer to her and when she stretched her other arm and reached for him, he ran without thought, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in side. The adults in the room watched with varying expressions of amusement and relief.

“What are you waiting for wee monsters?” Andy called for the twins as she pulled Miranda and her boys into her arms. Cassidy ran to them, wrapping her arms around Andy who rubbed her back in comfort.

Caroline watched the scene with skepticism. She was so much like her mother.

“Promise me you’ll never do this, whatever this was to us. You can’t just, just hurt us and think it’ll all be okay.” Caroline clenched her little fist as her lip trembled.

“Caroline, I can’t promise you that your Mom and I won’t argue or have issues-”

“But we’ll never allow it to get this serious or to affect your or your sister or your…” She turned to Andrea who gazed at her with such tenderness that she felt like weeping all over again. “…your brothers.” She swallowed. “I can promise you that. _We_ can promise you that.”

Caroline eyed her mother for even the slightest sign of deception, but when she found nothing but sincerity, she ran into the waiting arms of her family.

Ainslie laughed with glee, clapping her arms before pressing a kiss to Malthe’s cheek in excitement.

“Oh shit, oh no.” Richard groaned.

“What’s the matter my darling, everything is working out perfectly.” Ainslie grinned at her husband who had turned ashen.

“Remember…um…when Andy had asked me to um…” he tugged at his collar.

Ainslie’s eyes narrowed. She knew that guilty expression, she had seen the very same look reflected on their daughter’s face too many times to count. “What have you done Richard Sachs?”

“She asked me to!” He hissed, frantically looking over at Andy and Miranda who were too caught up with their children to notice.

“To do _what_?”

“I’ve been in talk with the Vicheks.” He hissed.

“To. Do. What?” Ainslie’s eyes grew wild.

“She had asked me that night at Cristi’s launch to set up a meeting with the daughter of their house.”

“No.” Her eyes widened. “You didn’t.”

He nodded frantically. “We’ve-”

“Don’t. finish that senten-”

“We’re in the middle of marriage negotiations and she’ll be flying here to finalize it any day now.” He rushed out, his face turning red and the gravity of the situation. While Andy had been cooped up in her office, refusing to sleep or eat, he had taken it upon himself to make the arrangements. He hadn’t thought there was anything left between his daughter and Miranda, so he had sent out feelers, which the Vicheks happily responded to. He hadn’t even remembered to tell Ainslie or update Andy. “Oh dear God.”

“Richard. I want a divorce.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. – B.S.
> 
> P.S. For anyone interested, follow me on tumblr. It's Bastesloan.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. Here’s another chapter, stay safe and I hope you enjoy. – B.S.
> 
> P. S. -Thank you all for the congrats and the well wishers.

Charles tugged his tie in place before running his hand over the front of his shirt to smooth the nonexistent wrinkles. He would be shadowing Miranda and honestly, he was extremely nervous. Dressing himself in perfectly tailored navy blue Armani suit, with a light blue shirt and dark tie, he knew his Miranda would be impressed, but that didn’t stop him from twitching.

“Why don’t you look handsome?” He looked over his shoulder to his Mum leaning against his door jam, arms crossed and right brow raised. “Going somewhere?”

He hummed before turning back to his mirror. “Miranda said I should shadow her today at work.” He frowned. “But something is off.” He peered at himself as he gently tapped his lips.

Andy’s eyes crinkled in amusement at the gesture. He looked so much like Miranda when he did that, it was downright unsettling. “Really? I don’t see what’s the matter. As I said, you look handsome.”

He rolled his eyes and that was all Andy. “You’re supposed to say that. You’re my Mum.”

She pushed herself from the door jam and walked over to him, ruffling his hair before she spoke. “That doesn’t make it not true.” She grinned when he looked up at her ruefully through squinted eyes as he attempted to fix the mess she made of his previously perfect hair. “Come I’ll take you.”

“Give me a minute; I think it’s the tie…” He murmured to himself as his mother left the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Serena sipped a cup of her special blend. Sighing in content. When she and Cristobal had tentatively peeked through the elevator doors, the last thing they had expected was to see Andy and Miranda… _cuddling_ on the sofa as if the last week hadn’t happened. With raised brows, they had looked at each other before their eyes narrowed on the scene.

Andy had only shot them a wink. Miranda…well Miranda had looked at her with earnest eyes before mouthing _‘Thank you.’_ The editor had come to her senses after all. Serena knew the woman wouldn’t disappoint, she was glad that she had taken the chance. _‘One problem solved a thousand more to go.’_ She mused. 

The clearing of a throat brought her out of her thoughts. She turned and looked down to see a mess of unruly red hair.

“Um…hi.” The girl fidgeted.

“Cassidy?” She frowned when the girl squirmed further. “What is it?”

“Ah, I was just wondering if, um. You know what, never mind.” She squeaked and spun on her heels to run.

Serena reached out and grabbed the girl’s shoulder. “Hey now, none of that. Tell me. Has something happened?”

“No! Um nothing happened, well nothing bad.”

The tension from the blonde eased at that. Still she eyes the younger girl with questioning eyes.

“I was just wondering, if, if I could come with you to work today?”

Serena frowned. “Don’t you have scho-”

“We have the week off for midterm.” She quickly rushed out.

“Oh. And you want to come with me?”

Cassidy fiddled with a necklace that hung lose around her neck. “I’m…I mean I’m kinda interested in, in, science and I…” She watched as a bright smile stretched across Serena’s face.

“Really?”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, that is…” She laughed. “Finally, I gave up hope on Azza and Ducky but _you.”_ She grinned. “I’ll make a scientist out of you yet.”

The little girl buzzed where she stood. “I’ll go get dressed. I’ll be down in a minute Aunt Serena.” She froze, feeling suddenly embarrassed that she had called the other woman ‘aunt’.

“I can’t wait to rub it in Andy’s face that I got one. She’ll be _so_ jealous.”

When Cassidy realized that the woman hadn’t mind, she rolled her eyes at the almost maniacal glee on the older woman’s face. The only thing missing was the rubbing of her hands together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda watched as Charles walked into her office. She could see his eyes fixed on her face, waiting for her decision. She was in the middle of a run through but she gave him her undivided attention. A full smile pulled at her lips and she nodded in approval. His smile lit the room at the sight of her approval.

“For those of you who aren’t aware, this is my son Charles.” Her eyes scanned the room before landing on her fidgeting underlings. All squirmed under her gaze save for Nigel who could barely hold in chuckle. “He is starting his first day at Runway.”

“I should hope my job is safe?” Nigel grinned.

“Oh give him time Nigel. Give him time.”

“He wouldn’t do that to his favorite Uncle, would you Ducky?” Nigel wrapped his arm around the boy’s shoulder.

“No promises.” The boy smirked causing the older man to release a bark of laughter before ruffling his hair.

“Why you little imp.”

“Nigel, stop accosting my boy and try your utmost to salvage the disaster that is this… _run through._ ”

“Oh oh, someone’s in trouble.” Charlie giggled as Nigel gently pocked him in the side.

Miranda beckoned Charles to join her behind her table and the room watched as the two dissected every piece of clothing brought before them. Charles had Miranda’s every micro expression down to a ‘T’, from the purse of her lips, to the bored sigh, to disappointed stare that would make anyone wince in discomfort.

“Is that it?” He perched on the arm of Miranda’s chair. “That can’t be it.” He shook his head disbelief, but when he saw one of them quickly nod, his eyes widened and he turned to Nigel who looked at the mock team with barely contained annoyance. “Uncle Nigel that is- I am truly _disappointed_. Why would you bring this rubbish? Nothing coordinates, it’s, it’s lazy. Am I being hazed Mom? Is this some sort of test to see if I’d pick on what not to feature on Runway, because I can’t even begin to understand, just why?”

Miranda turned to room, her eyes stormed. “Now that you’ve all offended my son’s sensibilities, might you find it in your hearts, to do me the favour of going to your offices, removing _everything_ from the building and I mean everything that might even remotely remind me that you were here. Oh, Luca and Paulo and Anne,” She waited for them to turn around. “That includes yourselves. That’s all.”

When they scurried from the room, she turned to Charles who was still shaking his head. “Come along Charles.” She tucked a lock behind his ear. “There is a problem at our shoot downstairs.”

Nigel groaned. “Marina having problems with the models again?” The renowned Brazilian photographer was normally flighty and a bit of a wild child, but when it came to the work, she was a true artist, meticulous and a perfectionist. Miranda knew if there was a problem, it was no fault of Marina’s.

“Whatever it is, we need to fix it.” She pulled her glasses and peered at him over the lens.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Miranda darling, what is this? You give me emotionless sticks to work with. I am an artist not a magician.” She said in rapid fire, her accent thicken as her annoyance rose. She switched to Portuguese this is ridiculous and muttered. “I try not to be difficult but this is ridiculous.”

Charles tugged off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves to his forearm before moving to the muttering photographer. “What can we do to make this smoother?” His Portuguese was perfect.

Her eyes widened at the child standing in front of her with his hands on his hips.

“I-what?”

“I understand that you have a problem. What can we do to fix it?”

She hesitated a moment before tilting her head to the side. “A model hasn’t shown up and the others are so, _so_ uninspiring.”

Charles nodded in understanding, “I will have the agency called and have them send over different models.” He gestured to Miranda’s second assistant who stood to his left and with a nod the girl was off.

Nigel and Miranda watched the back and forth between the two with rapt attention.

“Is there anything else?”

“No I will-wait, who are you?” The maturity and ease, which the boy carried himself made her, forget that she was speaking to a child, a child who seemed intent on solving her problem.

“I am Charles Sachs ma’am.” He gave her charming smile as he reached for her hand and pressed a light kiss to the back. “And may I say, it is a pleasure to be in the presence of a talented artist such as yourself.” He winked.

“Oh my…” She smiled, her cheeks warmed. She was completely enchanted.

“Should I-” Miranda whispered to Nigel.

“I think your boy has this under control.”

The two stood in rapt attention, Nigel’s mixed with amusement as they watched Marina shamelessly flirted, though mildly, with Charles flirted right back, giving as good as he got. Miranda was torn between amusement and horror as she watched her son enthrall the woman, her second assistant and her photography assistants. He wrapped them around his fingers with ease and Miranda was left with the realization that she and Andrea would need to keep an eye on him, as he grew older.

“He has Andy’s charm and rakish good looks but he has your air of mystery and cool indifference. It’s what’s making him so irresistible. Give him a few years and you’ll need to beat them away with a stick.” He guffawed at Miranda’s look of horror. “Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll be a one woman sort of guy. Like his Mama.” He winked at her.

She hot him a look that caused him to giggle. “Okay, like his Mama _after_ she met you.”

She hummed in agreement.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emily’s fingers flew over her keyboard as she answered email after email and updated Miranda’s schedule. The editor was still dealing with the shoot so that left the redhead with a moment of slight reprieve, if not for the incessant ringing of the office phone.

“Miranda Priestly’s office.” She answered distractedly.

“I would like to speak to Miranda.”

“Who may I ask is calling?”

“Nadia Yahontov.”

Emily’s fingers froze, her eyes narrowed. “Who?” Her voice chilled. Serena had told her everything after visiting Miranda with the video.   
“Nadia Yah-”

“Why are you calling Miranda?” She snapped.

“I don’t see how that is any of her assistant’s business.” Nadia’s voice grew bored.

“Look you miserable little shit I-”

“Emily!” Miranda turned the corner and was scandalized when she heard the redhead tearing into someone over the phone. 

“Miranda!” Emily jumped in her seat.

“That display of unprofessionalism is unlike you. Who is that on the ph-”

“No one!”

Miranda cocked her hip and raised her brow. Emily’s hands tightened on the phone as she contemplated just hanging it up. Miranda’s annoyance would be far less than the rage she would experience if she found out who dared to call her. Miranda gestured for Emily to hand over the phone as if she could read the redhead’s mind.

“Mir-”

“Emily.” Her voice lowered.

With a sigh, Emily handed her the receiver.

“This Miranda Priestly speaking, I must apologize for my ass-”

“Well, well. If it isn’t The Miranda Priestly.”

The words froze in Miranda’s throat, the blood in her veins. Her eyes narrowed. “Why you annoying little shit.”

“Now, now Miranda. Is that any way to speak to someone who just wants to invite you to lunch?”

“Lunch?”

“Lunch?” Emily mouthed in disbelief.

Miranda’s hackles rose, but she wouldn’t give the woman the satisfaction of letting her know. When she spoke, her voice was teeth rottenly sweet. “That sounds fantastic.” Emily’s eyes widened as she gaped. “The Ritz, one hour.” She hung up the phone, and then took a deep breath. 

“What are do-”

“I think it’s time I dealt with that woman.” Her lips pursed and her eyes twinkled with something that caused an unsettling feeling to fall in the pit of Emily’s stomach. “Don’t you?” Emily watched the woman in shock. “See to the reservations won’t you.” She murmured over her shoulders before turning on her heels.

“Oh, this is going to be bad.” The red head groaned as she picked up the phone to dial The Ritz.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Andy paced her arrival lounge at JFK. She was furious with her father, but at the same time, she knew it was partially her fault. So now here she was, picking up a woman who for all intents and purposes, was here to finalize their engagement. She shuddered at the thought of how Miranda would react. She would give that fake cold smile that made her look like a shark baring its teeth rather than an actual display of happiness. Andy winced at the thought of it, but it couldn’t be helped. The least she could do was meet the woman and explain that it was all a big misunderstanding. She owed her that much at least.

According to her driver, Tatianna, Vichek’s daughter should have landed 9 am that was almost three hours ago. She looked at her watch and groaned in frustration, she had been waiting for two hours and it took everything within her not to just leave and have the woman navigate the city herself.

Just when she was about to call her guard to do just that, the automatic doors slid open. Andy’s eyes widened at the woman who strut through them. She was slender, her long legs encased in a pair of white clacks, her feet clad in spiked black leather boots. She wore a white jacket with nothing underneath but a laced la Perla bra that peeked from where the cut dipped at the front. 

Her skin was bronze and glistened in the midday light. Her vivid green eyes scanned the room in curiosity as she ran a hand through her thick auburn locks. She looked as though she had strutted off the front page of Miranda’s precious magazine and from the way her eyes danced in amusement at the gawking people around her the woman knew it, and she loved it.

If it weren’t for the fact that Andy was completely and utterly devoted to her white haired vixen, she would have certainly and with pleasure, seduced this woman to her bed as soon as their eyes met. Now, she could acknowledge her beauty but that was as far as it went. Annoyance and not lust burned within her.

The woman eyes landed on Andy and a grin pulled at her lips reveling perfect white teeth. “My Lady.” She called out in accent that would send a shiver down one’s spine.

_‘Ah, so this is Tatianna.’_ Andy frowned. _‘The name suited her.’_ “You’re late.”

“Have I kept you waiting long my darling?’ She murmured as she walked to Andy and pressed a kiss to each cheek. “I do apologize. Now that I know I’ve kept such a beautiful woman waiting, my heart weeps.”

“Oh good God.” Andy looked at her in incredulity before huffing a laugh at the cheesy grin the woman shot at her. “You’re not as charming as you’d like to think.” Andy finished dryly.

“Oh?” She fell in step with Andy as she walked out of the lounge. “Now I know that’s not true.” She grinned as she pushed her slightly oversized Dolce sunglasses up the bridge of her nose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. – B.S.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. Here’s another chapter, stay safe and I hope you enjoy. – B.S.

Miranda scoffed before taking a deep breath and calming her rising anger. She wouldn’t give the woman the satisfaction of seeing her rattled, no matter how much she wanted to rip the insipid woman’s throat out.

She circled her desk and sat, trying her utmost to focus on the mounds of paper work that she had to get through, but her mind refused to focus. Instead, it insisted on returning to thoughts of Nadia and her motives. Spinning her chair around, she tapped at her lips, a frown furrowing her brows.

She knew Andrea hadn’t wanted anything to do with the woman, she _knew it_ , but that didn’t prevent the little niggling voice in the back of her mind, whispering awful, _awful_ things. She shook her head quickly, no, she wouldn’t allow a repeat of that madness. She wouldn’t allow herself to fall into Nadia’s trap.

Miranda Priestly always learned from her mistakes.

She was jarred from her thoughts by an incessant buzzing. She spun her chair once more when it continued. _‘It wasn’t her phone,’_ she thought, _‘the thing was clutched tightly in her left hand.’_ She frowned when the sound grew louder as she approached her desk. Shuffling the papers to the side, she still couldn’t find the source. Finally she started pulling out her draws, rummaging through each to no avail. Just when she was about to give up and snap at Emily to remedy the annoyance, her hand brushed against cool vibrating metal.

Pulling it from under leaves and folders, she eyed the device suspiciously. _‘What the…’_ Her thoughts screeched when she remembered where the phone from and why it was tucked at the bottom of her draw. She had completely forgotten the strange package she’d received weeks ago. An old phone and card with no information on it; there was no return address or the name of the sender.

She flipped it open, eyes widening at number of missed calls. She deliberated between apprehension and curiosity.

Curiosity won.

“Who is this?”

“Ah, finally, you’ve answered. You were beginning to hurt my feelings.” The voice was low, and gruff, obviously belonging to a man, but she couldn’t place the heavy accent.

“I’ll not repeat myself.” Her impatience bled through.

The man tutted, “Is that anyway to speak to your new best friend?”

“I don’t have the time for this.” She pulled the phone from her ear and was about to end the call when the voice rose over the line.

“Don’t you dare!”

Again, her curiosity won.

“And why not?” She snapped.

“Because my dear Madam Priestly, you have a very beautiful family…”

Miranda pulled herself up, squaring her shoulders as her hand tightened on the phone.

“And?” Her voice grew cold, the room chilled.

“Don’t you want it to stay that way?”

“Is that a threat?” She hissed.

“I just said I’m your new best friend, why on h=earth would I do that?” Amusement laced his voice. “It’s not a threat Madam Priestly, look at it as a, an opportunity of sorts.”

Her heart raced, it was something about the way he spoke, the way he chose his words carefully, yet still tried for an air of indifference. He wanted her unsettled. He wanted her confused.

“You’re not going to ask me about the opportunity?” He goaded.

“I’m sure you’ll tell me either way.” She kept her voice even and light, she could appear just as indifferent as he.

“But that’s no fun is it?”

“Say what you have to say so that I can be done with this inane conversation.”

“They did say you are a bitch.” He said the word cavalierly. There was no offence or reproach in the sound of his voice. He sounded as though he had just commented on the weather or what he was about to have for lunch. There was no emotional investment in the conversation. “I know you must have a list of questions and I just want you to know, with the utmost sincerity, that I have every intention of answering not one of them.”

“How kind of you.” She scoffed.

“I need you to do something for me.” He ignored her jab.

“Oh?” Her right brow arched. “Is that so?”

He hummed. “You have found yourself in company above your station.”

Miranda bristled at this but didn’t speak.

“Quite impressive I must say. Lady Andrea Sachs…” He hummed once more in thought. “…you work fast.”

“I beg your-”

“I need you to…acquire something that is in her possession.”

“You want me to steal-”

“Acquire.”

“ _Steal_ something from her and give it you. Have you fallen and smacked your head? I would never- _why_ am I even continuing this conversation?”

“Oh, you and I both know why Madam Priestly. You could have hung up minutes ago, but here you are. You’re intelligent, I’ll give you that. Ask yourself why and think. Put the pieces together.”

Miranda shuffled to the edge of her seat, her nostrils flaring, a feeling awfully similar to dread settled into her bones. Her mind raced.

“If you make me come all the way there and do it myself Madam Priestly, make no mistake,” His voice grew dark. It grew ugly. “It will not end well for your family. I generally as a rule never leave behind…well; let’s just say I won’t be able to assure their safety.”

“I-” She cleared her throat. “And what makes you think I believe your silly little claims.”

“Check the messages. You hadn’t been answering and I got lonely.”

Miranda’s fingers shook as she moved the phone from her ear and found the SMS icon. Each message had a file attached. Her eyes widened and breath became shallow when she opened one after the other. There were pictured of the girls at school. Others of Charles and Azza at football practice or walking down the street. Some of Nigel and Cristi at the Gallery or at Nigel’s apartment building, two of Serena entering her town car and another of her and Emily in Central Park and finally, her and Andrea.

Andrea huddled over her desk in her office, Miranda meeting a designer for a walk through. Her stomach bottomed out at the last one. It was one of the entire family, huddled together under mountains of pillows and blankets, ‘camping’ on the Penthouse balcony, watching old movies. Sans ‘the Original Riot club,’ as they had taken to calling themselves, who were busy gallivanting across the city, getting themselves into trouble of course. The picture was so clear and well detailed it was the photographer had been right there with them.

She could see Cristi throwing popcorn at Serena who was trying to mask her amusement with an air of annoyance. Cassidy was sprawled out on Charles’ back, while Azza and Caroline was huddled under a single blanket; the picture caught them mid giggle. Miranda was snuggled into Andrea’s side, a wistful glint to her eyes while the brunette was pressing a kiss to the side of her forehead. Emily was pouring Nigel, his third glass of wine; the two looked flushed and content.

The fact that whoever this mystery caller was had been _so close_ to capture such detail caused a spike of fear to shoot through her.

“What do you want?”

“See, intelligent. I knew you would come around.”

“Just tell me what the fuck you want.”

“Such foul language Madam Priestly, you’ll make me blush.”

“Enough!” She snapped, not caring that the man was riling her up. She remembered the feeling when her babies were almost taken. That sense of hopelessness and dread had increased tenfold at thought of something happening to anyone in that picture.

“You’re no fun; I guess they were right about that too. I need to acquire a drive from your precious Andrea-”

“A drive?”

“Yes.”

“Where-where is it?”

“Oh, you’ll figure that out Madam Priestly. I did say you’re intelligent did I not? It’ll be encrypted, silly precautions.” He scoffed. “So I’ll also need to you to get the decryption codes. Van Visser would most likely have it, but I’m sure you’ll think of a way to get that too.”

“I-”

“This is where you say of course.”

Miranda felt her throat close up.

“Can’t speak? At least give me a nod so I know you’re following.”

Miranda hand tightened on the arm of her chair at the implication of his words.

“Yes, yes. Now nod.”

She felt her head jerk quickly.

“Excellent! You have a week.”

“A wee-”

He hung up while the words were still on her lips.

Her arms hanged loosely by her side as her shoulder’s slumped. Her skin and grown ashen, almost indistinguishable from her hair. _‘What was she going to do?’_ The answer was clear. ‘ _She would have to betray the woman she loved…again.’_

“Oh, oh fuck.” She groaned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nadia raised her compact mirror and gazed at herself, ensuring that not a single strand was out of place and that her make-up was flawless.

She had been waiting for almost fifteen minutes at the Ritz, the damnable woman was late and it irked her. She knew the woman was keeping her waiting out of some power trip. Miranda Priestly’s punctuality was legendary, so this she knew was spite. Pure, bitter spite, plain and simple.

When a hush fell over the restaurant, she looked over her shoulder to see a flash of iconic white and signature Prada red. Miranda rounded the table, her eyes narrowing as she looked down at Nadia with nothing short of loathing. How Nadia could tell was a feet in and off itself considering Miranda hadn’t yet removed her signature sunglasses.

Maybe it was the purse of the lips or the way she regally arched her neck as if looking at a plebian, a lesser being, someone weighed and found grossly wanting.

Nadia shot to her feet, _‘How dare the woman look down at her?! How dare she steal what was rightfully hers then looked at her as if she were…nothing!?”_

“Nadia…” Nadia found herself fighting a wince when her name was spoken with such cool venom. “To what do I owe this…displeasure?”

Miranda waited for the Maître D’ to remover her coat and she heard every breath catch in the room. Miranda wasn’t dressed to impress, the woman was dressed to slay every mortal being within a viewing radius. Even Nadia had to admit that woman was mouth wateringly gorgeous as her eyes raked from her Prada clad feet, to her toned calves, all the way up to her…

“If you’re finished assaulting me with your eyes,” She bit, “Care to tell the class why you called me here?”

“You were the one who said to meet here.”

Miranda shot her a look that was anything but amused. 

“You don’t have to be such a bitch you know?”

“I see originality is not one of your strong suits.” She cocked her head to the side as her voice grew mocking. “That and failing to get Andrea’s attention, racking them up I see.”

Nadia flushed at the jab. Whether in anger or embarrassment was yet to be determined.

“You came.”

“Call it curiosity…or charity, whichever you prefer.”

Finally, she took her seat. Sitting down, she leaned back seemingly casual as she crossed one leg over the other, hiking up the hem of her dress slightly. She looked….provocative, bewitching, the nonchalant air she boasted only added to her appeal. She was…effortlessly sexy.

Nadia swallowed, she could see what had captured her Andy so. The thought only caused her anger to rise.

“I wanted to ask you one final time, give you a last chance if you will.”

“Oh?” Miranda offhandedly flicked a finger and a waiter appeared within second with her favorite wine already poured and left to breathe. She took a delicate sip, her eyes closed as she hummed in content. When Nadia still hadn’t spoken, Miranda murmured, her eyes still closed. “Are you intent on wasting my time? Because if so I’m more than happy to g-”

“Leave Andy. Break _whatever_ spell you have over her.”

“Ignoring the fact that you’re claiming I’m a witch, no.”

“No?” she frowned.

Again, she sipped. “No.”

“She’s, she’s mine!” She hissed.

“Yours.” Miranda cocked her head to the side.

“Yes! And I’m hers!”

“Oh? Is that so?”

“Yes! You’re just fucking bitch who, who preyed on her, lured her away with your, your witchy ways?”

“I did? Do tell?” Miranda was trying her best to appear serious, but the woman seemed one nut shy of the madhouse.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Andy sighed as Tatianna tugged her into the restaurant. “I thought you said this was going to be a quick meal? I have things to do you know.”

“Oh come now, is that anyway to treat your fiancé? Will you have me starve and fade away on the pavement for all to see?”

“One, you’re not my fiancé Tatianna, two, are you always this dramatic?” Andy eyed the smiling woman unimpressed.

Rolling her eyes, Tatianna pulled her with more force. “Come on, a friend told me the food here is divine,” When Andy still lagged behind, she groaned. “…ugh, you’re such boring company. I want a divorce.”

“Again, not married.”

“Semantics.”

“No, facts.”

Tatianna sighed before eyeing Andrea. “Feed me or I’ll tell this entire restaurant that you’re a lackluster lover and the sex is mind-numbing.”

Andrea gaped before her eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t.”

“It’s so, _so_ …dull.” Her voice hitched as her eyes welled with tears. “I can’t, I can’t do this anymore.” A single tear trickled down her cheek. Andy didn’t know whether to impressed or horrified at the woman’s acting. “You haven’t given me an orgasm in years!” She yelled in agony, drawing the attention of five passersby. Andy was on her in flash, covering her mouth before she could utter another word.

Three looked at Andrea in complete and utter disappointment while the other two looked at Tatianna in sympathy.

“Not true!” Andy found herself saying even as they walked away, shaking their heads in disbelief. “Fine!” She hissed to the woman. “All this for food?” She yelped and jumped away when she felt something wet swipe at her palm. “Ugh, you’re a child.” She hissed when the woman grinned. “Are you coming?” Andy yelled over her shoulder as she opened the door and stepped through.

“Aren’t you going to open it for me?”

“No.” Andy purposely closed it before Tatianna could reach it.

“You’re so cute when you’re grumpy.”

Andy flipped her off without turning around causing the other woman to laugh, a laugh that was cut short when Andrea froze.

“Andy? What’s wrong now?”

Her only response was a, “Oh fuck no.”

Tatianna watched as the woman was across the room in second.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda continued nodding as she sipped her wine, watching as the insipid woman worked herself into a snit when Miranda refused to give her the reaction that she wanted.

“I can make her happy.”

“Of course you can.”

“You’ll drive her to misery.”

“I can see it now.”

“I can-”

“Nadia, what the fuck are you doing?” Miranda arched her head back to see Andrea towering behind her, her eyes were wild and nostrils flared. The woman was bubbling with rage.

“Andrea darling you’re here. Nadia here was telling me how perfect she is for you. You must hear it, she almost has me convinced.” Andrea’s eyes snapped down to her in protest, but the words died on her tongue when she saw amusement twinkling in arctic blue. “She has a list darling, a _list_.” The editor’s voice grew breathy as she tried stifling down the laughter.

“You’re having entirely too much fun with this Priestly.” Andrea sighed in exasperation.

“Oh Andrea you must, it’s absolutely adorable.”

Leaning forward, Andrea pressed a chaste kiss to the editor’s lips, kiss that has the entire room gasping.

Miranda Priestly never did public displays of affection.

Miranda’s hands rose but instead of pushing the woman away as they all expected and seen her do to her other paramours, this time, she pulled the woman closer.

“I swear you’ll be the death of me.” Andrea mumbled on her lips.

Miranda pulled back with a smirk. “Funny you should say that, I believe that was number, was it thirty-one?” She didn’t wait for the gaping woman’s response. “…on Nadia’s list.”

“She really has a list?” Andy asked dryly.

“Oh yes, a _list_ , very detailed, and it goes on for quite some time. I’m almost positive Nadia has convinced herself that I am a legitimate witch who has trapped you into my evil, _evil_ clutches.”

Andrea snorted.

“My darling you must take this seriously. What if I lure you into the woods and use your bones to make my bread?”

“Pretty sure that’s a different story love.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Ye-”

“I’m right here!” Finally, Nadia found her voice. “You’re talking about me as if I’m not right here.”

“Oh Nadia you mustn’t fault us,” Miranda leaned towards her over the table, her eyes like her voice and morphed into unexpected sincerity. “…you really mustn’t, it’s just that, you’re well, entirely forgettable.” Miranda heard a snort being masked by a cough behind her, but didn’t turn to see who it was. Her voice grew lower, only loud enough for Nadia and Andrea to hear. “Please send your _list_ to my assistant. I’ll be sure to read it later tonight after Andrea has fucked me to within an inch of my life…or maybe I will to her, decisions you see.”

Andy hadn’t known it was possible to choke on air until that very moment. Tatianna, the ever-helpful one guffawed at the white haired woman’s words before patting the back of the reddening Aristocrat. Oh, she was truly glad she came on this trip.

“Now be a dear,” The woman continued her assault on her gaping lunch partner, “…and fuck off somewhere else. Your presence is growing tiresome at worse, tedious at best.”

“Andy-”

“No Nadia, I’ll not hear it. I told you already,” Her eyes hardened. “…stay away from me and my family, but you never listen, do you? Now you’ve forced my hand. Leave.”

“Andy I’m so-”

“Leave!” She hissed lowly, not wanting to draw unwanted attention.

The woman scrambled from her seat when she saw the set of Andy’s jaw and the fire burning in her eyes. She was out of the restaurant without a backward glance.

“You okay?” Andy whispered to Miranda.

The older woman gave her a tired smile. Something was clearly troubling her. Andy could see it even in the midst of her insults and mocking jabs at Nadia. “I’m fine my darling, nothing to worry about.”

“Are you sure.” Andy grew serious, ready and willing to slay whatever troubled her woman.

Miranda reached for her hand and gently trailed her thumb over her wrist. “I’m sure.”

Andrea’s eyes narrowed, assessing and waiting for Miranda to reveal something. She opened her mouth to speak when another cut her off.

“My, my Andy, who is this delectable creature?” Tatianna moved around to face the editor. Her eyes taking in Miranda with a hungry sort of appreciation. “Introduce me.” Her eyes hadn’t left the arctic blue that gazed her with curiosity and annoyance at the introduction. “Andy, introduce me.” She muttered again.

Miranda watched as Andy shook her head with eyes closed, muttering to herself. Miranda made out the words, ‘begging,’ and ‘patience’. When Andy did not attempt to fulfil the woman’s request, she took matters into her own hands.

“I’m Tatianna Vichek, and you are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever deigned to lay eyes on.” She reached and pressed a kiss on the inside of Miranda’s wrist.

Andy stepped forward, quickly pulling Miranda’s hand from the enchanting Russian.

“A friend of Andrea’s I presume?” Amusement coated her voice at Andrea’s clear jealousy and the Russian’s evident charm.

The woman laughed before giving Miranda a cheeky grin. “I’m her fiancé.”

Miranda’s eyes snapped to Andrea who was downing the editor’s entire glass of wine in one gulp. “Her. What?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. – B.S.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. Here’s another chapter, stay safe and I hope you enjoy. – B.S.

“I can explain.” Andy shot out after downing the last bit from the glass.

“Oh, this ought to be good.” Miranda’s brows raised, her eyes steadily fixed on the brunette who looked as though she would combust at any time.

“My father, he- the thing is I…well we decided-but I uh…”

“Use your big girl words.” Tatianna leaned back in her chair. A Cheshire grin on her face as she reveled in Andrea’s blatant discomfort.

“Oh fuck off.” Andy threw at her, but her eyes were still fixed on arctic blue. Arctic blue that hadn’t blinked since aristocrat began speaking. Arctic blue that was still watching her intensely and with piercing focus. Andy winced when the editor still hadn’t blinked. _‘Damn that’s unnerving.’_ The brunette shuddered.

“If you two are finished bickering, I believe I’m owed some explanation.” Her voice was sharp and Andy could hear the barely restrained anger in it.

“It’s entirely your fault.” Andy found her mouth saying. Words that her filter hadn’t sanctioned. Words that could get her killed.

“For the love of-” She heard the wince in Tatianna’s voice and knew in that moment, she had made a terrible miscalculation.

“What?” The soft, almost wispy sound from the editor’s mouth was anything but calming.

It felt like that moment of silence…of peace…the moment before the world erupted and the universe screamed. Andy felt her back straightened and her shoulders arched. Fool as she was, she would not be cowed. She met Miranda’s stare head on.

“Well, well yes.”

“Please stop talking.” The Russian groaned.

“I would advise you to listen to your _fiancé_.”

“If you hadn’t gone gallivanting with some wanker, I wouldn’t have allowed the match to go through. So-” She cleared her throat when Miranda’s eyes narrowed. “Your fault.” She rushed out.

“So, let me get this straight. We had a _little tiff_ -”

“Little tiff!” The disbelief rose Andrea’s voice to an uncomfortable pitch.

The editor continued as though she hadn’t spoken. “…And you run off to get _engaged_.”

“It honestly slipped my mind.”

“Doesn’t that makes me feel good.” Tatianna said dryly as she beckoned a waiter to refill her glass of wine.

“Slipped your-” Miranda took a deep breath, closing her eyes briefly as if in prayer, begging for patience to deal with this impossible creature no doubt.

“It means nothing. _She_ means nothing-”

“There goes my self-esteem.”

“I swear. I forgot all about it.” Andrea reached for Miranda’s hand and moved her chair closer to the silently fuming editor before leaning forward. “Easy My Lady, I only belong to you, you know this.” She murmured before pressing chase kiss just under Miranda’s ear. The spot that made the editor weak in the knees.

“You are fortunate Andrea Sachs.” Miranda turned to face the aristocrat. “Fortunate I find you so utterly charming, and most importantly, fortunate that Ainslie dragged Richard by the ear to our room last night to confess your-”

“You knew!”

“But of course.”

“And you were-”

“Having a little fun yes.”

“Oh your cruel, cruel woman.” Andy leaned back to stare at Miranda, whether in irritation or amusement was yet to be determined.

Miranda’s smile turned impish as she winked at her lover. “I know who you belong to Andrea Sachs.” Her voice dropped an octave and the low husk shot fire straight through Andy’s body.

The amber of Andy’s eyes darkened to a glassy black, her nostrils flared and her hands tightened on the arms of her chair. Miranda watched in fascination as the other woman’s body responded to her words and felt her own hear quicken as the blood roared in her ears and rushed to her face.

“Miranda.”

That was it.

That was all it took.

Miranda felt her breath hitch at the purely sinful way Andrea’s tongue wrapped itself around her name. Everything was forgotten around them. The restaurant faded. It had been too long since she had felt the younger woman’s touch. Too long since they had gasped each other’s name in the throes of passion. Too long since she had tasted every inch of her lover.

“Well fuck me.” Miranda heard a low gasp but paid it no mind.

Tatianna watched as the two undressed each other in broad day light, in the middle of one of New York’s most prominent and popular restaurant. The Russian felt as though she had been intruding on a private moment. That split moment before there was nothing but ripped clothes, wandering hands, biting, cursing and well…the best fuck of your life.

She felt herself squirm in her chair as she rubbed at her throat. Suddenly and furiously needing some air. They all needed to leave before they embarrassed themselves.

“Andr-” She cleared her throat when her voice came out sounding as if she was one stroke away from cuming. She swore under her breath before trying again. ‘Andrea!” She roughly pulled at the CEO’s shoulder who rounded on her with nothing short of a snarl. “Oi, calm down. Take your woman and go. As much as I would enjoy the show, let’s not mortify the poor woman.”

Andy frowned at the woman, her brain not recognizing the words. Her mind still addled and muddy and seriously, she had no room for cognitive thought.

“Andrea!” Tatianna tried again.

“What?!” The brunette snapped.

“Take Miranda and go. I’ll take care of the tab.”

Andrea looked around to see multiple stares of curiosity directed at their table. “Right. Right!” She was on her feet in an instant. Pulling Miranda along with her.

They hadn’t even looked back.

“You’re welcome.” Tatianna shouted dryly, before nodding to a waiter for a refill. “Well damn.” She grinned before sipping her wine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Matalon winced as the beating New York sun threatened to scorch her eyes. Her body was used to the dark almost perpetually cloudy weather that London boasted almost all year round. She ran her hands through her thick curls as her frustration mounted. Not trusting to communicate virtually, no matter how secured the servers were, she had flown half way across the world to meet with the three banes of her existence and though she used the term fondly, it didn’t make it any less true.

So here she was, across the pond, gearing herself to go toe to toe as she convinced three of the most stubborn people she’d ever met, that they needed to delay their launch until they had properly assessed and had the matter under control. She could already hear Cristi’s _‘You worry too much Tia. Come drink with me to unwind,’_ or Serena’s, _‘That is illogical,_ ’ or worse yet Andy’s _‘Nope.’_

That’s it.

That’s all she’d say and that irked the older woman.

Pulling her cell from her coat’s inner pocket, she quickly pressed the speed dial number, then the code for ATLAS’s secured line.

“Has Hunter returned to base yet?”

“The chopper just landed Director.” Her weapons specialist answered.

“I want her debriefed and the info sent to me before day’s end.”

“Aye Ma’am.” After a pause, as of debating whether to speak, he rushed out. “Ya ken they’ll not change their minds, they’re as stubborn as my Ma’s donkey. Yer wastin’ time.”

“If I don’t try…” Her voice trailed. He nodded, knowing what she had planned to say.

“At least we narrowed it down. And from what Hunter sent us, we have a good lead. Dunna fash, it’ll be okay.”

“You sound like Cristi.” She snorted in spite of herself.

“Smart lad.”

She hummed in agreement as a car screeched to a stop at her feet. “I have to go, my car’s here. By the end of the day.”

“I heard ye the first time woman.” The years had made him familiar.

She rolled her eyes before hanging up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They had done their best to procure some semblance of privacy, and their best was to reserve a room at the hotel. They hadn’t made it to the main door before Miranda’s hand had grazed Andrea and the woman looked as though she would take her against the glass. Miranda had spun on her heels and moved straight to the receptionist desk and now here they were.

They stood across from each other in the elevator. Not daring to touch each other lest their self-control be undone. Miranda’s hands tightened on the railing behind her as Andy watched her from under hooded eyes.

They hadn’t spoken a word.

The tension in the elevator mounted as the air thickened, sizzling under the weight of their need. The _ding!_ as the doors slid opened jarred the editor from her less than pure thoughts and she slowly made her way out. As she moved down the empty corridors, she lightly trailed her fingers over the wall, imagining the softness of Andrea’s skin, the warmth of her body, the pulsing heat of her urgency. She closed her eyes as she moaned under her breath.

Andy trailed behind the editor. Watching the sway of her hips, she could smell the scent of the other woman’s signature perfume. The intoxicating thing was clouding the brunette’s already addled thoughts. Her eyes fixed on Miranda’s hand. She watched as her finger trailed along the walls as if caressing a lover.

Her nostrils flared as she slowly stalked the object of her desires. She was using every bit of self-control and restraint not to pounce on the woman as Miranda teased her with her low moans, and the obviously extra sway of her hips. Now and again she would shoot heavy lidded stares over her shoulder at the brunette, as if daring her to resist, and Andy found herself fighting a losing a battle; ad if she was being honest, she wasn’t too keen on winning wither. 

Miranda pulled the key from her purse when she saw their room number and quickly opened the door before disappearing inside. Andy took a fortifying breath before stepping inside. As soon as the brunette was in sight, Miranda's arms were around her as her lips covered her surprised lover’s. Andy had been sure that Miranda would draw it out further. Teasing her mercilessly until Andy was naught but feral need and aching desire.

Andy hadn’t stood a chance. She was dragged further into the suit as Miranda lavished her lips with her mouth, tongue, and teeth, as her racing hands devoured whatever she could reach. A complimentary bouquet of flowers suffered the tragedy of passion when Andy unceremonious tossed the vase to the floor in favor of gripping Miranda's ass and hoisting her against the high entrance table.

Miranda's tongue felt soul igniting as it slid against her own, and Andy didn't hesitate to grip the editor’s arse harder in response. Her clit was throbbing again. It hadn't really seemed to stop. Her body felt light and airy as she pushed against Miranda, hoisting her further onto the table, so she could again satisfy her desperate need. Quickly changing her mind, she pulled the editor off the table and spun them around, pushing her.

Miranda’s back hit the wall and she moaned. Andrea's kisses were just as urgent as her own. She knew her lover was wound up again.

She sucked on Andrea's tongue, just the way her lover liked, the way that made Andy moan and mumble in a confusing mixture of different languages when she trailed her lips to her jaw and, without preamble, Andy was heaving Miranda back onto the high table in desperation. She shifted in between Miranda's legs and felt her panties cling to her soaked core. She was more than ready for this. She moved flush against Miranda and moaned loudly at the feel of Miranda's heat against her own.

"I’ve missed the feel of your hands on me," Miranda mumbled against Andy’s lips as she blindly reached out to undo the buttons on the brunette shirt. All the while Andy had gently wrapped a hand around Miranda’s throat, gently squeezing as she bit and sucked at the skin. "It's all I can think about." She was moaning again as their mouths collided. She sucked eagerly on Andrea's bottom lip as her hands dove into CEO’s shirt, not even bothering to finish undoing it completely.

Andy's head dropped to Miranda's shoulder as her usually patient lover frustratingly pulled down the cups of her bra to grasp Andy's breasts. "Fuck, Mira." She moaned against the editor’s neck that had begun to purple under Andy’s mouth, before she messily began applying open-mouthed kisses along the column.

"You have no idea how wet you've made me." Miranda breathed out as she palmed one of Andy's breasts before pinching a hard nipple. "No idea."

Andy whimpered before sinking her teeth into pale skin. Miranda's reply was a loud moan before she was squeezing Andrea's breasts ruthlessly.

Andy ran her hands along Miranda’s stocking clad thigh, her fingers tearing at the mesh in a desperate attempt to reach soft skin. "I'm going to fuck you right here." Andy moaned.

"Andy." Miranda whimpered breathlessly and the brunette’s mind shut down.

Miranda stared at the younger woman. She stared at the woman that made falling in love the most graceful thing one can do. Elegant and effortless; but also passionate, and wild, and confusing, and messy and yet…so perfect. The thoughts sent a kick-start it Miranda’s chest and she felt her heart beat frantically.

She loved Andrea.

She was in love with this woman.

Wholeheartedly and so achingly fated.

She was it for her.

There would be no other.

She stared at the woman’s messy hair, flushed cheeks, slightly swollen lips and a tenderness unlike any other wrapped itself around her heart and in that moment she knew that if ever Andrea asked for the world, she would give her the universe.

When the fingers stilled against her, and there was no lips on her body, Andy looked at Miranda in confusion. The editor was just…staring at her. A strange look to her eyes.

“Mir-”

Before the words could leave her mouth, frantic, desperate lips were on hers.

Miranda felt that kiss shake her to her very core. It was all consuming, reaching to the farthest corners of her subconscious. When Andy nipped at her lips, she pressed a hand to the other woman’s chest and gently pushed her back.

Andy froze and watched as Miranda slowly scooted off the high table before standing and turning her back to the brunette. Andy watched her in fascination and confusion until Miranda gestured for her to pull down the zipper of her dress. Without a word, Andy slowly tugged at the metal, her other hand trailing behind it, gently running against soft skin. She could feel the older woman shudder under her touch and she ached for her.

Miranda them moved from Andy reach, turned on her heels and dropped the dress to the floor before stepping out of it. Clad only in lace underwear and partially torn black stockings that disappeared into Prada pumps, Miranda was Andy’s walking fantasy.

With a smirk, Miranda hooked her fingers in Andrea’s belt buckle before pulling the younger woman to the bedroom. Andy made no protest or uttered a single peep as Miranda led her with dark sultry eyes and swaying eyes that would make grown men follow her in devotion.

Miranda then stopped at the foot of the bed, before turning and sitting at the edge, then with the tips of her fingers, she touched the backs of Andy's legs and skimmed higher as she drawled Andy closer. The brunette went willingly until she stood in between Miranda's parted thighs and finally brought her gaze down to her lover.

"Oh, God." Andy breathed out in adoring agony as her eyes met Miranda's as the woman slowly undressed her.

When she finished, leaving her lover in her lingerie, the editor looked up at her from beneath her eyelashes, between curls of snow white, with such love and desire that Andy starting shaking as she threaded her fingers into Miranda short, thick locks, needing to touch her. She blew out a deep breath as her eyes slid shut and she bent down when the pressure on the backs of her thighs pushed her nearer to Miranda.

Andy blindly leaned forward until her and Miranda's foreheads touched lightly, and all she felt was the feather-light brushes from the pads of Miranda's fingers dancing on her skin.

She felt the quiver race through her but she couldn't shatter yet. It was far too soon. Andy slowly let her eyes flutter open and glanced down to meet Miranda's stare.

She swallowed with difficulty as let her gaze glide down past Miranda's neck to see the deep black sheer and lace bra, down to the matching panties, that contrasted beautifully against pale skin. When Andy looked up again, Miranda's breathing was shallow as she continued to stare at her, her expressive dark, eyes swirling.

Miranda softly rubbed the backs of Andy's thighs before running her hands down her lover’s legs and up again. She couldn't pull her gaze away from Andy as she watched each touch and caress play across Andy's gorgeous face. Each time Andy's eyes would flicker closed, her eyebrows would crease, and her lips would tremble slightly.

With more pressure, Miranda guided Andy until they were flush against one another, foreheads still connected, and Miranda's hands continuing their torment. She delicately linked her long legs around Andy's ankles as her hands swept them over Andy's arse until they were softly pressing against the small of her back.

A light gasp flurried from Andy's lips as she tilted and ducked her head to breathe against Miranda's mouth. She felt Miranda knead her back with more intent and moved closer, barely touching Miranda's lips until she felt them slide against her own. Once, twice, until Miranda nipped at Andy’s top lip before capturing them between her own and her hands were racing up Andy's back pushing her even closer with a loud moan as she arched off the bed.

Miranda couldn't keep her hands still. As she sucked on Andy's tongue, her hands once again cupped Andy's arse, squeezing, before her fingers glided around to stroke the abs on Andy's quivering stomach and drop down to hold her lover’s hips, fingering the panties she found there. Andy plunged her tongue deeply into Miranda's mouth, panting hard as each caress of Miranda's fingers sent bolts of arousal to her wet center. She shifted on the spot, spreading her legs slightly, and Miranda took the hint and raced a hand down until she was cupping Andy over her panties.

Andy moaned deep in her throat as her eyes slammed shut. Miranda, holding her there, knowing what she was doing to Andy, made the brunette instantly soak further. She wanted Miranda to know how much she turned her on. How much she wanted her. Like air, or food, or some other necessity that without would make life impossible. Andy spread her legs a little farther, hoping Miranda could feel it all.

Miranda gulped heavily as the heat and moisture coming from Andy coating her hand. Her heart pounded at the answering rhythm that came within her palm. She felt the trickle of yet another answer between her own thighs. They panted against each other's mouths for a moment while they reeled in their overwhelming need, everything else freezing.

To both, the importance of the moment weighed greatly. They felt it as their lips slide and tongues touching, their bodies bowing, and they pressed closer. Andy’s fingers threaded deeper into Miranda's hair until she was guiding her lover down on the bed to lie on top. Miranda delicately stroked Andy over her panties in a slow, careful caress that made them both hum.

Miranda could feel Andy's stiffening clit licking back as she stroked her. Could feel how hard Andy was for her, how wet. Her restless hands itched to fully undress Andy. Wanted nothing separating her from her love.

Andy dropped her head down to Miranda’s as their mouths brushed, exhaling loudly and echoing around the room. She breathed harshly as she kissed Miranda once, still cradling Miranda's face delicately in her hands. She felt Miranda cling to her back, frantically tearing at Andy’s lace and silk lingerie, as they shuddered against one another, so still in their joined trembling.

The way Andy's hair cascaded down her shoulders and traced Miranda's bare arm only made Miranda shake harder.

The low whimpers and strangled moans propelled each woman forward until they were sliding to the top of their bed. Miranda's fingertips dug into Andy's body; just refraining from crushing the woman to her. Their kisses were deep like their touches. A slow frenzied pace.

Andy held tight to the plains of Miranda's jaw and cheeks as her body uncoiled above her lover's. The silk of her skin easily glided up and down Miranda's soft lingerie. She felt the yielding, smooth skin of Miranda's long legs rub against hers in a manic charge of want and shifted her hips to press closer to where she felt heat.

Miranda's hands got needy, skimming down the sides of Andy's unraveling body until she slipped underneath and held tight to Andy's thighs. She squeezed, feeling Andy's taut muscles respond, and began pushing and pulling to create friction against her own growing wetness. She could feel it, swelling inside of her, the love that she felt and the enormity of just looking at Andy and how it made everything ache.

Lovely waves breaking and crashing down on top of her, and suddenly Miranda couldn't wait another second to have it consume her.

"Andy?" Andy heard Miranda's breathy plea and what she was really saying.

In that moment, it seemed that there was nothing wrong with shattering, and all at once, Andy broke, only seeing arctic blue eyes wide with lust and dare she hope…love?

"I know, Miranda." Their lips connected as they gasped, moving against one another desperately. Their hands never stilled as they gripped and clawed to be closer; Andy moving urgently to make sense of how immeasurable everything felt. "I know."

Miranda sucked on Andy's tongue as her fingers fumbled with the latch of her lover’s bra. She slowly peeled down the silk and opened her eyes as her lips brushed Andy's. They never stopped pushing against one another as Miranda's fingertips guided the thin material down Andy's shoulders and past her elbows.

Miranda's mouth immediately went to Andy's neck, sucking softly as her palms skimmed up Andy's naked back and fisted brown hair as she sunk her teeth into the tanned skin of Andy's shoulder. Her mind was frenzied knowing just how close to complete everything was.

Andy ducked her head, sucking on Miranda's collarbone and summing the courage to splinter apart for Miranda. She could feel her lover gasp as their hips continued to meet. She could feel Miranda revel in touching her. She could feel the heat radiating from deep black panties, and when Miranda moaned, gripping Andy's arse as Andy nuzzled into the space between her breasts; Andy only wanted more.

Her hands slid down Miranda's sides and slipped underneath the soft lingerie until they were trailing up Miranda's smooth stomach. She breathed in deeply, smelling Miranda's skin at the collarbone as her hands cupped her lover's breasts gently. Miranda rocked her hips harder, driving Andy into her with each thrust as she let out a strangled moan.

Miranda felt lightheaded as Andy continued to rub her breasts. They were barely-there touches that only furthered her excitement. She felt her nipples harden considerably and arched off the bed and into Andy with renewed drive. Miranda breathed into Andy's ear as she slipped her hands into her lover's panties and squeezed Andy's arse in encouragement. The return thrust Andy gave only urged Miranda on. As one hand went back to raking through Andy's long hair, the other pulled and dragged until Andy's panties were skating down Andy's thighs.

Andy kicked her panties off and settled back onto Miranda between her thighs, eyes slamming shut and groaning at the feel. With new skin revealed, she licked her lips and glided up Miranda's body so they could kiss. So she could feel even more connected with Miranda. Her hands squeezed Miranda's breasts as she dove her tongue into her lover's mouth, breathing heavily and feeling Miranda's heart beat wilding against her own.

Andy's thumbs brushed over Miranda's hardened nipples, and she marveled at each touch. Andy moaned harshly as she tugged on Miranda's nipples, squeezing harder before cupping each breasts firmly.

They had been naked in front of each other many times since that night that felt like so long ago, when Andy had barged into Miranda’s home with fury at her heels. They had kissed intimately. Brought each other to orgasm, and piston one another on with their words; but perhaps this time was different merely because it was just them, and the stark realization that they had each found the other half of their soul.

The realization made the air disappear and their bodies tense. It made them pause. Andy removed her hands from within Miranda's bra and arched up on the bed, hands on either side of Miranda as she stared down at her lover, not bothering to push down the black material that was above Miranda's bare breasts.

Miranda panted back as she brushed stray hairs away quickly from Andy's heated face before placing her palms on Andy's cheeks. Andy's eyes slid shut at the soft touch, and she pushed off the bed so her lower half would slide and rock against Miranda's.

A soft hiss of, "Yesss," slipped from Miranda's lips as she buried them against the soft skin of Andy's neck. Knowing that Andy's bare pussy was rubbing against her own wet panties was clouding her mind.

With each thrust Miranda could feel Andy spreading her cum. Each movement added to the enormity. Every time she shifted her hips, brushed her center against Andy's, or spread her legs, even marginally, she felt her own dampness and keened with a racing heart.

Andy arched her neck as Miranda feasted on it. Their growing moans never wavered and only rolled into the next. Everything felt fuzzy to Andy and out of focus. She couldn't grasp fully what was happening, allowing her body and heart to take control. She buried her forehead into the pillow beside Miranda's head and propped herself up on her elbow to allow her other hand to explore.

With the tips of her fingers, Andy glided up the skin of Miranda's side until she was fondling Miranda's breasts again. She loved the equal pleasure she got from Miranda sucking on her neck and grinding against her with touching Miranda intimately. Everything was making her flood. The release of moans, even her own, turned her on.

"I want my mouth on you." Andy gasped as her hips rocked back and forth against Miranda's.

Miranda moaned in response, but didn't remove her hands from the backs of Andy's thighs. She only pushed harder against the tight muscles, loving the feeling of her own wet clit brushing Andy's as Andy straddled her.

When Miranda's only response was continued, heated groans, Andy dipped her mouth down to wrap around Miranda's puckered nipple. She loosely sucked, only wetting the bud, and slid her teeth down the tip.

Miranda's whole body began spasm.

She pressed down harder on Andy's lower back so she could rub herself against Andy's stomach for relief. When that, too proved not enough, Miranda's hands shot down to remove her panties quickly. Andy didn't bother to move or help, too caught up sucking on Miranda's dark breasts until they blossomed light-red blotches.

She couldn't stop tasting Miranda's breasts. Andy wanted to taste it all. She loved the different textures. How soft her cheek felt against the skin and how her rigid tongue glided up and down Miranda's taut nipples, rolling the bud with the tip. Each time a breast would bounce against Andy's hand, Andy would moan throatily and picture holding both while Miranda rode her.

Miranda shucked off her panties completely and excitedly slipped her thighs around one of Andy's. The immediate glide had both women moaning loudly and cursing, very aware of their considerable wetness being smeared against one another. " _Fuck_." Miranda panted, sliding her hands down Andy's naked back until she was cupping Andy's arse and thrusting her hips to meet Andy's.

Andy placed her forehead on Miranda's and stared deeply at her as she continued to rock her hips. She could come. Just like this. Just by looking at Miranda as they pushed and pulled against one another. "I love you." She whispered softly with such conviction. “I love-” eyes fluttering shut.

Miranda's hand threaded into Andy's hair as her clit licked Andy's thigh. Her heart thumping so hard, she could barely breathe. _‘Did Andrea just-?’_ She was happy to just stare at Andy. Her beautiful Andy. With her long eyelashes brushing her pink-tinted cheeks as she nibbled on her lip, taking pleasure from each swipe of their bodies. She joined her hands in Andy's hair, and she brought her lover's lips down to her own in a desperate kiss.

“My darling.” She whispered back. A touch of awe and reverence in her words.

She couldn't imagine another moment not kissing Andy. They were breathing hard as their lips consumed the others. Swift, frantic kisses as they tried to breathe through their arousal.

Each moan was swallowed and echoed against the others, overlapping as Andy sank down between Miranda's thighs to skim her pussy against Miranda's clit as her lover chased her tongue with her own wetly. Andy held Miranda's breasts in one hand and whimpered against her lover's mouth as Miranda dug her nails in Andy's ass, propelling their thrusts until their come spread against the others skin and down onto their sheets.

It all felt like too much and not enough and perfect all at once. Their hearts raced to keep time with the other. Beads of sweet grew on their brows as their eyes locked; knowing what came next. Miranda was frantic to feel Andy dripping in her hand. She wanted to feel what her love for this woman could do. She wanted to feel Andy envelope her fingers and tongue until the weight of their love became too much.

Miranda softly touched Andy's face until her lover's dark amber eyes were staring powerfully at her. The rhythmic canting of their hips continued as Miranda's thumb traced Andy's full bottom lip until Andy took it into her mouth and sucked lightly. Miranda leaned forward until their lips brushed, and she took her hand away to slide it down Andy's chest and cling to her hip.

With a turn of her hand, Miranda's palm was caressing Andy's stomach between them. She stared up at Andy until Andy understood fully. She swallowed hard, her eyes fluttering with desire, until she released Miranda's breasts and glided her hand down to cup Miranda's pussy.

She watched Miranda's eyes gaze back at her. She heard Miranda's soft gasps as she held her, and when Miranda moaned forcefully as her hand trailed over Andy's hipbone and she cupped Andy, Andy felt her heart thump wildly as her body shook in relief.

Their lips were slightly parted as they exhaled, eyes locked, as they held each other intimately. They could both feel themselves soaking the other's hand. They could feel the consistent pounding of their other's heart.

Miranda's middle finger parted Andy's drenched lips and watched Andy's eyes slam shut for a moment. Their mouths brushed as Andy rubbed Miranda's pussy and leaned down to take Miranda's top lip between her own, sucking lightly with an urgent sob.

Their eyes found one another as they rocked into the other's hand. Knowing that they had all the time in the world to do this and not in a rush to miss a single moment. Everything felt like a catalyst. Their hard nipples rubbed against the other's, and their hips canted. Their moans made them throb and the sight of the other's pleasure made them ache.

Andy arched her forehead against Miranda's, feeling her lover's finger start to slowly trace the length of her clit and squeezed Miranda's pussy softly with a resounding moan. She licked her lips as she watched Miranda's eyes widen slightly, immersed in her exploration. Nothing had ever felt softer or more erotic to Andy than the feel of Miranda. The vulnerability in her hand made her chest heave in wonderment and her mouth dropped open further as she felt Miranda spread herself more.

They each conveyed with a single look the magnitude of their feelings, and when Andy parted Miranda's slit, slipping through Miranda's wetness, Miranda felt her love collapse upon her and shook with its extent. She moaned gutturally against Andy's mouth, eyes slamming shut, as Andy began circling her clit. She responded instantly as her fingertip rubbed Andy with long, firm strokes.

"Miranda." Andy panted hoarsely, trying to wrap her head around the building pleasure from each stroke from Miranda. "M-ira." She choked out.

Each steady lap of Miranda's finger was driving Andy hips forward. She circled Miranda's swelling clit as they kept pace, staring down at her lover in amazement. Nothing had ever felt so remarkable than watching Miranda touch her. Watching Miranda react to what Andy was doing to her.

The rattling moan that purred from her throat made Miranda whimper and jerk. Andy could feel Miranda's clit twitch underneath her finger and circled faster, loving the feel of slipping up and down.

Their lips fused together and only separated to gasp and moan. They kissed; eyes open to everything, to regard the other's pleasure. The slick wetness added to every sensation. Andy felt her pussy clench as she took Miranda's clit between her thumb and forefinger, gently stroking and pinching when her body would jolt.

Miranda's free hand slithered up to press her palm against Andy's heated cheek. The beauty reflecting back made her heart catch and she knew she could do this forever. She moaned as she leaned up, catching Andy's lips between her own before sliding her tongue between to brush Andy's.

Over and over again their tongues met.

Barely-there touches or wet licks, as their bodies dug into the bed and their pace increased.

"Andy." Miranda whispered, her voice catching. Her lover stared back, forehead to forehead, and felt a tight coil tremor low in her stomach. "Fuck, Andy, mmmhmm." Miranda couldn't decide what was better: to have Andy touching her or to finally be touching Andy.

Andy gasped in reply, the emotion caught in her throat and ended with a moan. She rocked against Miranda as she felt her lover's finger circle her opening before sliding back up to flick her pulsating clit repeatedly. Every part of her was shattering around Miranda.

"Mira."

It wasn't a request nor was it a plea. Andy just needed Miranda to know that she was there with her. Feeling everything her lover felt. She ducked her head and wetly sucked on Miranda's earlobe as she hummed her encouragement. "Fuck, Mira, this feels so… _fuck_ …I missed…being with you." She breathed out.

Miranda whimpered and turned Andy by the chin until they were kissing again. She clawed down Andy's collarbone until she was cupping Andy's breasts tightly in her hand, too aware of the way her clit would spasm.

She swiped Andy's clit up and down headily before parting Andy's slit. With only the tip of her finger, Miranda entered Andy, sliding in and out as she panted against Andy's mouth.

Andy moaned, almost feeling whole at the sensation of Miranda within her. She looked down into arctic blue eyes and knew Miranda was waiting for her.

Andy finger circled around Miranda's wetness, rubbing her swollen clit in fast strokes. She felt her own walls clamp around Miranda's finger and slipped down to Miranda's opening. Their labored breathing seemed only to magnify as they stared at one another, bodies humming.

She slid into Miranda slowly, moaning at the impossibly tight feel. Miranda's eyes shut briefly before watching Andy as she moved into her. She felt Andy flutter around her finger and squeezed the finger within her in response.

"Come with me." Andy whispered, unable to look away from Miranda's fathomless eyes.

Miranda nodded swiftly, incapable of finding her voice as she looked back at Andy imploringly. The knowledge that she was making love to Andy made her chest constrict until she felt something break away; something she didn't even know was still there.

With a long, drawn-out moan, Miranda pushed slowly and deeply into Andy to the knuckle. The answering flurry around her finger made Miranda gasp, but before she could recover, Andy drove into her with the full force of her desires.

"Oh, God." Miranda whimpered in a breath.

Immediately responding by sliding deliberately out before thrusting back in, Andy's tightness keeping her trapped.

Andy's hips rotated and moved with Miranda's hand, surging back and forth as her finger plunged into Miranda, swimming inside her with short, shallow thrusts until she sought deeper, walls clamping around her. "I never felt…so…Mira." Andy's strangled cry made Miranda move faster. She brushed back Andy's hair with the hand cupping her lover's cheek, not wanting to miss a single expression on her flawless face as they rocked.

She leaned forward, needing to kiss Miranda. Even if they could barely breathe through their gasps. Andy lowered her body completely, removing the hand cupping her face to thread their fingers. With effort, she pushed into Miranda harder, surging forward through the tight opening as she guided their joined hands over Miranda's head.

Miranda squeezed Andy's hand as she squeezed the finger within her. Each movement from Andy sent her reeling. She could feel her walls sucking Andy in with every pass, and her hips quickened.

Andy looked down at Miranda, her eyes clouded. She loved her. She wanted her so badly. The gigantic need in her hummed in satisfaction with each trust inside Miranda until she was starving again. "Can you take more?" Andy breathed out against Miranda mouth, her body urging forward keeping pace with the finger in Miranda's pussy.

Wanting to be consumed, Miranda only nodded back with large eyes. She pictured Andy stretching her and fucking her fully. Two long, pale fingers making her scream as she drenched Andy's hand. She pictured doing the same to Andy. Watching the woman above her sob through her orgasm as she rocked two fingers snugly into her. It all became too much.

Miranda squeezed the hand in her own and used her legs to twist Andy's waist until amber eyes were blinking up at her. Keeping her finger inside Andy's pussy, she slowly pulled away from Andy's finger until her walls were clamping down unrewardingly. Andy's chest rose and fell dramatically as she waited, her wet finger hovering, waiting until she could fill Miranda again.

She stared down at Andy, their hands still joined now over Andy's head on their pillow, and took in the gorgeous sight. Andy, completely naked and laid out for Miranda, legs spread to accommodate the unmoving finger buried within her, blushing breasts heaving, red, swollen lips, chocolate hair splattered across their pillow. "God, I need you." Miranda groaned, slithering her body along Andy's until her tongue was slipping into Andy's mouth.

Miranda felt Andy's finger twitch against her clit, eager to enter. With one more press of her lips to Andy's she sat back up until she was perched over Andy's wet finger and sank down. "Oh fuck, fuck fuck." Andy rushed out, watching Miranda rise and fall, her pussy wrapping around her finger. She released the hand in her own and grasped at Miranda's hip, digging her nails into the dark skin to lower Miranda down and up again.

"Two, Andy." Miranda moaned out, eyes rolling back. Andy swallowed thickly, racing over every detail of Miranda's body and slid another finger up just in time for Miranda to plunge down on it.

"Holy sh-it." Andy groaned out, gliding her hand around to cup Miranda ass.

Miranda collapsed down onto Andy, thrusting forward as her walls sucked Andy's fingers begging for more. "God, fuck me, Mira." Andy choked out, needing to feel the mirroring pleasure she was giving her wife.

Miranda moaned unevenly, each one hitching in her throat. Andy's request made her feel dizzy. Her toes dug into the bed as she thrust harder against Andy, her pussy flooding. She slid out of Andy carefully, just the drenched tip circling inside, until she pushed deep into Andy.

Andy whimpered loudly, biting her lip as she continued to bring Miranda to the brink. Her neck arched off the pillow, Miranda matching her speed, until two wet fingers were pistoling into her as well. Her walls would spasm irregularly, so wet and welcoming to the new resistance that was being constricted tightly.

Miranda pressed her fingers into Andy, over and over again, never feeling anything so tight yet yielding before it was making her faint. The growing wetness seeping from Andy made her push through the burn in her arm, frantic to show Andy what she was so desperate for.

Andy's neck arced until her lips were beside Miranda's ear, puffing erratically. She could hardly stand all the emotions and gratification. Just like every other time with Miranda, Andy felt as though nothing was a boundary. The confidence to ask and demand planted long ago, and each time Miranda would rock into her, two fingers trying to go deeper and deeper with each pass, threading through immense wetness, Andy became bolder the closer her orgasm drew. She wanted it all, and she would get it all.

"Mira," Andy panted in a hiss of air, tying not to forget the request her body so badly wanted.

Miranda looked down at Andy and followed her lover's gaze until they were both staring at Miranda's bouncing breasts. "Fuck." Miranda sobbed, feeding off Andy's desire for her. She leaned forward and could only gasp in surprised as she felt Andy's mouth latch on to her left nipple.

The added stimulation was making her gush between Andy's fingers. The way Andy's hot mouth would suck and then bite, all while thrusting with fast, frantic strokes with her fingers before curling and gliding against her walls, searching.

Miranda felt hot everywhere. Her orgasm was thundering towards her to rapidly that she could hardly breathe. As best she could, Miranda glanced down, just making out Andy's cheeks hollowing as she sucked on her nipple, and lower, to where their bodies slammed into each other.

The blood was pounding in Andy's ears, so loudly that she could just make out the beginnings of Miranda's screams. They were building quickly as Andy switched breasts. The tight fit of Miranda's fingers pistoling inside of her would be enough, but the fact that she was allowed inside of Miranda, to love Miranda, to suck on her breasts and cradle her ass as she slid against her constantly—the moan in the back of Andy's throat was almost lost in Miranda's screams.

Those raw screams that seemed to tear Miranda's throat apart.

Andy trembled around Miranda, feeling cum rushing, pulsating as she buried her face in Miranda's breasts against her pounding heart. Her whole body bowed and shook as she sucked Miranda deeper and deeper. She arched her neck on the pillow, looking up to catch Miranda's gaze. Miranda lowered herself slightly until her forehead rested against Andy's, knowing that Andy was coming hard.

“I love you too my darling.” She answered back, before brushing her lips against Andy's until she could feel every groove and dip, sucking the bottom lip between her own before tugging with her teeth.

They stared at each other, awed, Andy's walls twitching in time with Miranda's, as stars burst around them and their bodies continued to rock.

Miranda's fingers curled first, twisting slightly until Andy returned the favor. Pressing against that spot that made the room around them flash white. Their bodies shook as their eyes locked, silent words necessary, until tears swam, fingers never stopping, rough, jagged gasps for air their only supplication.

Both their hands stilled as their frames froze completely, rigid as they curved and bent into one another until Miranda collapsed uselessly on top of Andy, burying her face into Andy's sweaty neck, legs tangled and chests rising to meet the other.

They were silent as they tried to catch their breath. Minds whirling as their lovemaking flickered behind their closed eyes. Both felt as though they couldn't move, paralyzed from the extent of their combined effort of making the other come and the force in which they came.

Miranda felt Andy slowly slip out then a wet hand was stroking Miranda's back slowly, up and down. She could only snuggle up closer to Andy, her nose nuzzling Andy's skin slowly as she placed soft open-mouthed kisses to her neck.

She suddenly felt nowhere near done. The rolling orgasms were still making her clit and pussy twitch; smelling Andy's skin, feeling Andy's hands rub her back gently as she panted, and very aware of the extreme wetness gliding against her leg and fingers, overshadowed her physical exhaustion.

Andy's hazel eyes were ringed with gold as her gaze met Miranda's. She felt drugged and drossy as she watched Miranda lick her puffy lips, hair brushing against her shoulder and sweeping across her forehead. Andy arched up to sweep her tongue along Miranda's lower lip before kissing her mouth repetitively in short forceful pecks until their tongues slid against the other's.

Her head fell back against the pillow. She was still shaking too hard to lift herself up, but very conscious that her throbbing clit kept licking Miranda's slick thigh and her walls were continuously clenching the fingers within her. She wrapped her legs around Miranda, loving that body was still so responsive to everything, loving that she could. As Miranda moved her chin to Andy's chest, peaking up at her through her eyelashes and bangs, Andy raked her fingers through the snow white hair, her pants giving way to puffs.

She watched as Miranda's eyes slowly slid shut. She marveled at her beauty, but Miranda's pulse wasn't slowing. Each time Andy would slowly rock against Miranda's fingers and thigh, Miranda would shudder as her pulse throbbed in her neck.

Andy watched on, transfixed, as Miranda's inhaled sharply every time she would part herself up and down Miranda's tanned thigh, stretching around Miranda's buried fingers. She'd feel Miranda's leg muscles clench against her clit, and her rocking would quicken slightly.

"Can you feel that?" Andy whispered, lifting her hips to sink further onto Miranda. Miranda nodded her head, eyes still closed, but enamored by the wetness seeping from Andy. "C'mere." Andy breathed out, lifting to meet Miranda's lips.

Miranda gasped against Andy's mouth, eyes still tightly shut, as she allowed herself to actually feel. This was, without a doubt, the most intense experience of Miranda's life. Every emotion she had ever felt for Andy seemed to have been magnified to the ninth degree; and here she was, lying exhausted on top of her lover, her best friend, her partner, her enemy, Andrea Sachs, and she still had her fingers inside of her.

"What are you doing?" Andy asked quietly, her voice husky, and a tad restlessly as she looked up at her lover. Miranda's eyes were still closed, but the slow smile that spread indicated to Andy that she was far from thinking pure thoughts.

Andy was withering underneath her again. She thought of how elegant Andy always looked. How effortlessly gorgeous she was when she smiled. How sinfully roughish she seemed whenever she did that knee weakening smirk and arch that brow of hers. How completely and utterly wanton and insatiable she was whenever Miranda so much as looks at her too long. At how desperate she seemed whenever Miranda touched her body, or fuck…whenever Andy touched her. The woman acted utterly ravenous and completely

"Oh, fuck," Miranda groaned out fervently as her finger slipped deeper into Andy's wetness.

"Mmmm, Mira," Everything was so muddled to Andy. The way Miranda's body was sliding against hers, the way Miranda's wet thighs and small hips kept cantering, how Miranda's palm glided over Andy's hard clit.

"I don't want to stop." Miranda keened, loving the feel of how easily her finger slipped inside of Andy. How wet and slick and hot and tight it all felt. Miranda's eyes popped open to find Andy's mouth hanging open in wonder as she stared up at Miranda.

Andy's shook her head. She didn't want to stop, either. "I didin't…know…we…could…keep…Shit, Miranda…keep…going—ohfuckdon’tstop!" Andy rushed out as Miranda used her hips to push further into Andy.

Andy had never allowed herself to be so taken with a lover. To allow them such unbridled access to her body. For them to take form her as equally as she gave to them.

She grabbed Miranda's hips and dug her nails into the skin as Miranda thrust against her, going deeper with each pass. "There are so many things I want to do to you." Miranda choked out, visualizing her finger inside Andy. The walls sucking, the come spreading everywhere.

Her air caught, utterly breathless from Miranda's words. She had her own ideas on every which way she wanted Miranda. Which was really every way. "Like-like what?" Andy asked in a whisper. The way Miranda's finger would plunge into her and then swirl inside was making black spots appear behind Andy's eyelids.

Miranda thought about the question and groaned loudly. Her raw throat pleaded with her to take a break, but the rest of Miranda wanted to moan for Andy. "I wanna ride you again."

"Yeah."

"I want to taste you."

Andy could only nod emphatically, holding her breath sharply as she bit her lower lip.

"I want you to taste me."

Andy felt her eyes roll to back of her head at the thought. “Fuck, yesss…”

Miranda buried her lips against Andy's neck as she continued to thrust inside of her. There were a million and one things she wanted to try with Andy. She wanted to try it all. The hard part was saying it. To put words to exactly what she wanted and to bold enough to actually make the move.

"Andy, I want everything."

"Fuu-uck. Mira. I’ll give y-you, _fuck_ , anything. Say it and it’s-it’s yours.”"

“Anything?” Miranda was so close to coming again, right up against Andy's thigh.

She could feel herself seizing around nothing but the image of doing every little dirty thing possible to Andy. The sights and sounds of Andy. The feel of Andy's soft skin rubbing against her own, her grip around her fingers, the hot gusts of air blowing against her neck.

Miranda's question puzzled Andy for a moment before the gasped, "Anything." She pleaded her case by dragging her nails down Miranda's spine, receiving a whimpered moan in response.

“I want both.”

"I can do both." Andy mumbled, her lips against Miranda's shoulder. "I can definitely do both."

As Miranda's mouth moved lower, skirting across Andy's breasts and sinking down between the soft valley, Andy was suddenly struck with how damp her thigh had become from Miranda, and how much she wanted to do both herself. "Waitwaitwaitwaitwait." Andy whispered, her hips still moving along with Miranda's fingers.

Black eyes and blown pupils were staring up at her in question and concern. "Did I hurt you or-"

Andy was swinging her head from side to side, wanting to make it very clear that she was not hurt. Miranda sighed in relief, desperate to continue down Andy's body. "Wait!" Andy tried again. She needed Miranda to stop for a moment. Which meant she needed to convince her own body to stop jumping to meet Miranda's fingers.

"Andy, you're going to need to hurry up and explain exactly what you'd like, or else I'm going to lose my mind from wanting you." Miranda murmured desperately, her eyes wild with lust. Andy smiled deliciously; very aware that Miranda's gaze lay a lot lower to where Andy was spread open. She watched as Miranda licked her lips in anticipation and thrust against Andy's thigh.

"Me first." Is all Andy answered with, wiggling herself free from Miranda and down below Miranda's body until she was spread out between Miranda's thighs.

Andy was aware—now that Miranda was no longer inside of her—just how close she was to coming. In that moment, Andy staring up at the soft pinks and deep reds of Miranda, her swollen, twitching clit, and the wetness that made Andy's blood boil with obsession, she felt her orgasm bubble only nearer. "Shit," Andy hissed out as she licked her lips, jerked forward, capturing Miranda in her mouth before sucking and holding firm to Miranda's thighs. "Fuck, I'm coming." She mumbled.

Miranda whimpered at the declaration, reaching forward to grip the bed frame as her eyes flickered down to the sight of Andy Sachs coming—body shaking and tensing—as she leaned forward to take Miranda into her mouth. " _Fuck_!" She screamed, throwing her head back in mystified ecstasy as her eyes popped.

Andy hummed as she sucked around Miranda's clit, softly and with furious benediction. Her dark amber eyes were closed, blocking out everything but the enthralling smell and taste of her lover. "So good." Andy whined quietly, rolling her tongue around the wetness in her mouth before licking her way up and down Miranda before nipping and licking her clit again.

"So fucking good." Miranda echoed.

She was only slightly aware that her hips were swaying, subtly rocking against Andy's face as she sucked on her clit. However, it did not register that her hands were gripping the headboard to the point of pain or that moans were tumbling from her throat with rapid acceleration. She could only stare down and watch as the tip of Andy's tongue lapped around the stiffness before taking it between her lips, only to suck far harder than before. "Fuuuck!" Miranda screamed, shivering as she felt Andy's teeth slid down the length of her.

Miranda's hips jerked harder, and Andy's held firmer to her thighs to keep her in place as she sucked her clit. She breathing harshly out of her mouth, trying her best to taste everything Miranda had to offer all while pleasuring her moaning woman on top of her.

Every taste of Miranda made her want more. It was spilling from her and dripping and Andy couldn't move fast enough, and Miranda kept twitching and it was decidedly messy in the most exhilarating way possible.

Each time Andy would lick or suck, Miranda would jerk again, making Andy's clit mimic the action. She wasn't entirely sure if she had ever stopped coming since she began eating Miranda out. Miranda’s taste was so powerful that Andy mind was addled as orgasm after orgasm ripped from her body in response pleasuring Miranda. 

She liked how Miranda's clit would harden in her mouth, spasm, and swell. The thighs clamped tightly around her ears did not drown out the sound of Miranda's uneven moans. And they certainty couldn't quell the primal screams she heard as she sank her tongue deeply into Miranda as Miranda's walls squeezed back, making her body, once again, dangle and hang as everything went taut.

For a moment, all Miranda could do was shake and try to catch her breath, fingers tangled in chocolate brown hair. She couldn't swallow, she could barely breathe. Black spots were exploding behind her eyelids and sweat beaded heavily on her forehead and neck. Slowly, her body rose off Andy and fell over onto the bed without her permission.

Her hand went to her chest, almost forcing her heart to remain inside, and draped a shaky hand over her forehead.

“Breathe my love.” Andy whispered in her ear. Her accent thickened in the throes of passion. “That’s it, breathe.” Andy stroked at Miranda’s wet, strands, pressing soft kisses to the other woman’s chest and shoulders.

“I love you.” Miranda gasped, still fighting to calm her frantic heart. “So fucking much.”

“I know.” Andy rose and pressed a light, sweet peck to Miranda’s lips, before tucking a lock behind the editor’s ears. She gazed down at her, so intently, so fiercely. “I adore you.”

Miranda felt her lips curl in a smile, even as her eyes fluttered close. “I know.”

Andy grinned before curling around Miranda, tugging the sheets around them for a much-needed nap. “Rest,” She whispered as Miranda drunkenly rose and pressed a wet kiss to her cheek. “I wore you out.”

A scoff and a light pinch to her hip was her only response as Miranda snuggled into the bed and was out in seconds. Andy chuckled lowly before pressing herself closer and following Miranda to the realm of dreams.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda was slowly lulled from sleep by the warmth of the sun on her face. Without opening her eyes, she stretched before throwing her arm over to reach for Andrea. Her eyes shot open at the empty space.

“Bout time you woke up.” Andy called form the foot of the bed, clad in nothing but the hotel’s complimentary silk robe.

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

“Oh, you’re much too cute when you sleep for me to do that.” Andy grinned when Miranda’s eyes narrowed. “Stop it, you know that turns me on.” Andy teased.

Miranda rolled her eyes at the woman’s words, secretly pleased.

“What time is it?”

“A little after three. I texted the kids and Cristi to let them know we won’t be going home tonight and I messaged Em to send over clothes for us.”

“Oh?”

“Yes oh. You my love are solely mine until tomorrow.”

“What’ll my boss say?”

“I hear she’s sucker for blue eyed editors with white hair. So I think you should be safe.”

“Do I tell her I’ve been kidnapped for your sexual pleasure?” Miranda didn’t smile, but her eyes crinkled in amusement.

“Most certainly. I told you she’s a sucker for Blue eyed editors with white hair, how else is she going to know you’re mine?”

“Is that what I am? Yours?” Miranda asked. Her head tilting in curiosity.

Andy offered a smile filled with genuine tenderness. “Miranda, I have every intention of marrying you someday. That is what we are.”

Miranda’s pulse quickened. She was at a loss for words, and in that moment, the illustrious editor in chief of a publishing powerhouse could only manage, “Oh.”

Andy hummed in agreement. “Well I might not if I die of starvation, considering you’ve driven me so tirelessly and have yet to feed me.” She arched a brow and cocked her hips.

Miranda felt the laughter bubble within her as she shook her head, eyes crinkling as she gazed at Andy. “Am I to order the food?”

Andy nodded.

“And you couldn’t have done it while you watched me sleep?”

“I told you, too cute. I couldn’t take my eyes off you and now I’m wasting away.” Andy plopped down unto her back, before shuffling up and resting her head in Miranda’s lap.

“My sincerest apologies.” Miranda said dryly as she looked down.

“All if forgiven.”

Miranda rolled her eyes before moving to get up. Andy grabbed her arm, stilling her movement.

“I ordered already, it should be up any minute now.”

“You’re a child.”

“Yet you love me.”

“Such is my burden to bear.”

Andy laughed. “You’re an arse.”

When landline rung to inform them that room service would be up shortly, Andy rose to her feet, intending to meet them at the door.

“Andrea.” Andy stilled. “I got a call today.” Miranda didn’t know why she was saying this now. Why she was ruining the mood, but it just shot out, the need to share her burdens became overwhelming. She watched as Andy’s spine stiffened. “I don’t know his name, or where he is from but he’s, he’s threatening to-to- he wants me to _steal_ something from you and-”

“I know.” Andy hadn’t turned around.

“But I can’t- wait, what?”

“I know.”

“You know?” Miranda’s mind reeled, and her emotions ran rampant, but one remained constant, her anger. “You know?” She spat.

Andy whirled around. “Don’t be upset.”

“Don’t be upset you say. How dare you. Do you know what I-” She swore. “How did you know? Are you keeping tabs on me? Have you-have you bugged my office?” Her voice lowered in accusation.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Andy scoffed.

“Me? Ridiculous?! I would think carefully about what I say next if I were you.”

“One of my people was tailing the package you received. A similar one was delivered to one of my employees in Germany, it, it didn’t end well for him. We suspect corporate sabotage. They managed to intercept it and planted a bug in the phone before it was picked up to ship. We traced to Elias Clarke and was just…waiting.”

“I, you never thought to tell me all this?!”

“First of all, I didn’t want to worry unnecessarily. Secondly, we weren’t on the best of terms if you remember.”

Miranda sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “He has pictures Andrea! Pictures of all of us! Of course I'd worry! You knew and you weren’t going to say anything then. What, you wanted to see if I’d have done it? If you could trust me?” Hurt bled into her voice, her lips pursed and her shoulders stiffened.

“I wanted to see if you trusted me.” Andy lowered herself to bed before stretching over and taking one of Miranda’s hands in hers. The editor looked unsure if she should allow the touch, but she felt powerless to stop her need to have contact with the younger woman. “Whether I trust you, was never in question. I just, I just needed to know if you felt the same, because if we’re doing this Mira, doing us, we have to be partners, equals. I have to trust you and you trust me, unequivocally, no questions asked. We don’t fight battles alone anymore.”

Miranda heard the sincerity in Andrea’s voice and felt the tension leave her. She wouldn’t allow some perceived slight to ruin what they have. Not when she understood Andrea’s reasons. She remembered her promise to herself, she would stop self-sabotaging, stop waiting for the other shoe to drop and live for now, putting everything in it.

“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, but we’re handling it and I’’ tell you everything okay?” Andy rubbed her thumb against the back of Miranda’s hand. Not wanting to fight when she finally had the woman she adored with her reach.

The sound of the door being knocked echoed throughout the room. Andy made no move to get up. Her eyes searched Miranda’s, waiting for her response.

“Okay?” She asked again.

Miranda flipped over Andy’s hand before clutching it in hers fiercely. The tension draining from her shoulder as she gave a quick nod. “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

The relieved smile that broke across Andrea’s face was proof enough that she made the right decision.

“Great.” Andy rose before leaning over and pressing a searing kiss to Miranda’s lips, pulling away before the woman could pull her down unto the bed fully. “Great, I’ll go get the food. Wait here.” Andy winked with a grin.

Miranda watched as Andy walked through the doors before falling back unto the bed and eyeing the ceiling.

“What have I gotten myself into?” She groaned at the thought of the younger woman’s hold over her, but the if she were being honest, the more she thought of it, the more she came to the realization that she didn’t mind that _‘hold’_ one bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. – B.S.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. Here’s another chapter, stay safe and I hope you enjoy. – B.S.
> 
> Please note that I have taken some liberties with the Grand Prix and the sport of racing.
> 
> For those interested in what the Flamenco Rumba sounds like or even wish to learn, here's the link  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E9_NxA0eu3g&t

Miranda squinted at the brightness of the sun as she tugged on her signature Prada sunglasses, watching as Cassidy chased Azza down the wooden deck. A few nights before as they laid lounging in a suit at the Ritz, Andrea had told her of her, Serena and Cristi’s annual tradition. Each year the trio would travel to the South of France, then sail to Monaco where Cristi would race in the Grand Prix, widely considered to be one of the most important and prestigious automobile races in the world.

It was a subject of pride for them because they would spend all year, using every moment of free time they had to remodel or upgrade Cristi’s beloved Formula One car and considering that he was the reigning champion for the last six years, well that was a bonus too.

The jet had only landed in the South of France less than an hour ago and now they were boarding a Yacht that had made her pull down her glasses in awe while Nigel whistled lowly.

“Holy shit…” Emily breathed as she stepped from the SUV that had taken them all from the airport to the marina where the yacht was docked and waiting for them. “That thing is…”

“Huge,” Nigel finished for her, laughter on his lips as they both took in the enormous luxury boat anchored in the clear blue water.

Owned by Europe’s ‘Riot Club,’ the sleek pristine white vessel swayed in the ocean at a whopping 450 feet. Built to their specifications, there were four decks above the waterline and according to Cristi, two more below. To the back was a helicopter-landing platform that boasted the Van Visser insignia.

_‘_

_The Nautilus’_ christened by Serena they had said, who had developed an affinity for Verne during her younger years which she still had to this day. It was a tradeoff to Cristi and Andy who had made her promise that whenever she built her first ‘space ship’ they were allowed to name it either _‘The Enterprise’_ or _‘Millennium Falcon’_ \- wars were still being waged about which name would prevail-. 

Though she had her reservations about this impromptu vacation, Andrea had tugged on her forelock with the cheesiest grin when she had asked them to come.

Who was she to resist?

Serena had later murmured to her, in that all-knowing way that she does, that it would be best to keep up appearances. They wouldn’t want anyone thinking that there was upheaval and chaos within their ranks, and if they missed one of the most prestigious racing events of the year, one that they partook in like clockwork? Well tongues would surely wag and suspicions would be raised.

So here they were, not that she was complaining of course. There were surely less, relaxing and enjoyable ways to ‘keep up appearances,’ and spending time with her new found family in luxury and decadence was surely not amoung them.

As they boarded the Yacht, passing the crew who lined the docs, waiting for their employers to finish boarding, Andrea pressed a quick kiss to her lips before announcing that she was going to have a word with the Co-captains and First Mate, Cristi on the other hand had taken it upon himself to be their self-appointed tour guide.

With glee and childlike excitement, he took them through every room on every floor. From the first deck that had five Owner’s suits, to the other that had four VIP suits and another that had five Master. Then he carried them to the indoor hot tubs, sauna and steam rooms, massage and other treatment rooms.

Even Emily looked a bit overwhelmed but they diligently followed as he took them to the medical centre, the sky lounge, then the cinema, plunge pool with a wave-maker for the children he had said, -but from the sparkle in his eyes when he mentioned it, that might not be the case-. Then there was a playroom, and additional living areas with a separate bar, secondary dining room, private sitting rooms and a library.

They clearly and evidently did not spare expenses. Everything was top of the line, best of the best. Every gadget and appliance was state of the art; to say they weren’t impressed would’ve been a gross understatement.

Miranda had to take a moment. She was by no means poor, in fact she had prided herself on achieving a life of privilege for herself and her girls, but this, _this_ was…she had been able to keep up with Andrea, Serena and Cristi. The life of extravagance they were used to though it far superseded her own, she had refused to bat an eyelash at it, refusing to let it intimidate. But now, seeing what they considered an ‘a fun buy’ whatever that meant, knowing monetarily it meant nothing to them, staggered her for a minute, and she could see it was doing the same for Nigel and Emily.

She took a moment, reminding herself of the kindness and compassion that the trio always displayed, how much they have back, whether it was with their time or their funds, how they had brought them and accepted them into their fold without hesitation and open arms. They just had to, well take it all in strides. Not letting the magnitude of it all overwhelm them.

They had lost the children somewhere around the playground part of their tour when Caroline had locked eyes with the newest model gaming consol. Now, the ship was leaving port and as the sound of the customary blow of the horn signaled their departure, Miranda relaxed on a chaste lounge watching as land slowly disappeared from view.

Across for her Emily and Serena huddled together in a single love seat, the two wrapped in each other’s embrace as the red head for some reason or the other, was throwing olives from her Martini at Cristi, who insisted on catching them with his mouth.

“I swear he’s a child ninety percent of the time.” An amused voice whispered in her ear.

“So much different from you right?” She whispered back and huffed in amusement when she received a nip to the neck in retaliation. “Point proven.”

“No idea what you mean.” Andy rounded the chair, tapping Miranda shoulder, motioning for the older woman to lean forward. When she did, the brunette slid herself behind the editor before pulling her back unto her chest.

“I think I’d go for a dip.” Serena announced as she stood. “What say you love?” She turned to look down at Emily, tugging the woman up by her fingers when she nodded. “Anyone else up for it?”

Nigel downed his glass of champagne before nodding. “Sure, why not.”

“Anything to get me in swim trunks, huh hermoso?” Cristi smirked as he turned and rolled the older man under him.

“Cristobal, stop assaulting my art director, I’ll need him when we get back.”

“If you think Nigel doesn’t love whatever is happening over there, then Andy isn’t doing it right.” Serena snipped with a grin when Andy threw a cushion at her head in indignation.

“I’ll have you know that I do ‘do it’ right. Right Mira?” She arched her neck imperiously. When she was met with silence, her eyes snapped down to the editor scandalized. “Miranda!”

“Oh, of course darling. Sure you do.” She patted the brunette’s cheek indulgently while the others laughed as they left to their cabins.

“Why you-” Andy growled but Miranda was on her feet before she could finish.

“Come along now darling.” She shot a smirk over her shoulder, knowing and loving how much she was riling her lover up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Andy thanked their cabin steward before shutting the door softly behind her. “You think you’re funny don’t you?” Andy eyed the woman as she fought the twitch of her lips.

Miranda chuckled lowly before moving to the wardrobe to pull out her swimsuit. “Oh, you thought I was joking?”

Andy smirked at the teasing lilt of her lover’s words before she walked towards her. She moved in behind her, sweeping the hair from the back of her neck and leaning in to press a soft kiss there. Miranda sighed, leaning back unto her. Andy’s arms moved around her, holding her tightly as if she feared the editor would float away.

“I love you.” Miranda murmured as she titled her head back unto Andy shoulder and closed her eye. The two swaying gently to their own little rhythm.

It felt effortless now, being with the brunette. Her heart still raced at her touch and her breath quickened whenever the brunette so much as look at her much less when she tells her she loves her.

“Mmmm…” Andy mumbled back without actually saying the words. Miranda opened one eye before pinching the brunette’s side in indignation. Andy yelped in amusement, her laughter ringing through the cabin, but she had not released the editor from the cocoon of her arms. “I love you too, you violent, violent woman.”

Miranda hummed in agreement before tilting her head back and to the side so Andy could find her lips with hers. Andy groaned when her lips covered hers and her mouth immediately opened under the brunette’s, allowing Andy to deepen this kiss. Her tongue slid in against Miranda’s and when the editor released a soft moan, Andy’s blood immediately surged.

Andy’s hands began to roam, taking in Miranda’s delicate curves, amazed at the woman’s effect on her. Oh how she wanted her. She wanted her with such an intensity that she could think of nothing else. Just as she was about to say screw swimming and spin around her woman to push her towards the plush bed, Miranda pulled back slightly, breaking the kiss, even as Andy’s lips followed after hers in frustration.

“Wha-Come back Miranda.” Andy breathed out, her eyes heavy.

Miranda’s eyes danced as she pressed a chaste kiss to her lover’s lips, pulling back quickly as the brunette tried deepening it. “You know I want to, but-”

“No buts, kill all the buts.” She pulled Miranda firmly to her.

“Our friends are waiting for us; there is plenty of time for this later.” She smiled before turning back to the wardrobe.

“You forget how spoiled I am.” Andy whispered huskily, before pulling Miranda against herself before trailing her hand up the older woman’s thigh, pulling up the hem of her sundress. “How I am used to getting what I want Priestly. Shall I pout to prove it?”

Miranda couldn’t help the airy laugh that sprung from her lips. She brought a hand up to Andy’s cheek and patted it lightly. “Well, I guess it’s about time to break you of that Westminster.” Then she stepped away from her, moving off towards the en-suite bathroom with a wink to change into her swimsuit; leaving her lover standing there, turned on, and definitely, _definitely_ pouting.

Andy adored it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They stepped back out unto the main deck to see the children already changed into swimsuits. Little Azza with his goggles and floaties on despite not being in the pool. Lunch was being served in the outdoor dining area Andy noticed gratefully, as she patted her growling stomach. Nigel and Serena were already seated at the large table across form an amazing buffet was set out.

As Miranda made her way to her seat, Andy grabbed two plates, piling it with decadent morsels as Miranda called for one of the stewards to bring drinks for them. Miranda smiled as Andy handed placed the plate in front of her before pressing a kiss to her lips and sitting next to her.

They were all relaxed and happy, she watched as Andy shot her wink before cutting Azza’s chicken into smaller chucks then settling into her seat. Cassidy and Caroline where talking over each other as they excitedly squealed about every new discovery they found on the Yacht while Charles stole food of their plates.

Miranda laughed and enjoyed the food and the company, laughing as the Serena, Cristi and Andrea got into a spirited debate about fuel efficiency and horse power. After they had all eaten, the party moved out onto the deck and Cristi pulled out his guitar, doing a fantastic job of getting everyone into a further party spirit with his choice of songs. Even Miranda, feeling both clamed and relaxed joined him once or twice, earning herself cheers from everyone and whistled and catcalls -mostly from Andrea of course-.

As he strummed away, he turned to Serena with a grin who rolled her eyes in exasperation.

“Watch this.” She murmured to Emily.

“Mmhh?” Emily hummed as she drank.

“Nigel is about turn into mush.” She smirked as Cristi began playing the first cords of the Flamenco Rumba.

As everyone watched in rapt attention. Cristi played, his eyes fixed on Nigel whose entire body went lax and his mouth gapped slightly.

“Dear god.” Emily found herself rubbing at her neck because if she was deeply in love with the woman beside her and Nigel wasn’t one of her best friends, she would…she cleared her throat and shook her head quickly

“I told you. The Flamenco.” Serena smirked as she sipped her drink, eyeing Andy who shot her a look of exasperation at the same love sick enraptured look on Miranda’s face. “His secret weapon.”

“Well fuck me.” Nigel murmured.

“I believe that is his goal.” Serena cackled.

“Grow up!” Cristi yelled before grinning. “She’s not lying though.”

The rest of the afternoon passed in a similar fashion. The air was filled with fun and easiness and so much…joy. Miranda couldn’t remember laughing this much or so hard in her entire life. The played in the pool, lounged under cabanas, jokes were made, they teased and giggled, bets were placed on the most ridiculous of things and many, many crazy stories were told that even Emily found herself wheezing at one point.

A buzz of excitement circled around them when the sun began setting low in the sky. When the party began to ease for the moment, everyone started to break off, heading back to their rooms to get ready for the night, and Miranda just knew that with how great the day had been so far, the night ahead of them would be even more amazing.

Her mood, like that of the adults around her was one of exuberance as she stepped into their room, a slightly tipsy and giddy Andy on her heels.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Darling?” Miranda called as she stepped from the bathroom while securing her earrings.

“Here, love.” Andy grinned, stepping around the corner with a glass of champagne in each hand. She looked up and froze, the smile slipping from her lips when she saw Miranda fully. “Fuck…”

“…me.” The tow breathed out in unison.

They eyed each other from the floor length dresses that were absolutely sinful, cut so provocatively that it left little to the imagination but actually revealed nothing. Their makeup was smoky and effortless, though a tad heavier than usual. Andy’s hair was pulled into a simple up do while Miranda’s was slicked back with not a single strand out of place except for a single curl curving over her right eye.

Miranda found herself first, a slow smirk pulling at her lips as she moved across the room. Andy still frozen in spot, but her eyes darkened as Miranda approached. The editor arched a brow before sliding a glass of champagne from Andy’s fingers before bringing it to her own lips all while holding the brunette’s gaze.

“Dammit woman.” Andy chuckled lowly with a quick shake of the head. Tipping her own glass to her lips, she downed it quickly, then set it down on the table next to her before she stepped into Miranda’s space, her hands finding home at the editor’s waist. “It seems to me, Miranda Priestly,” she drawled, her voice low and husky. Her accent heavy and sinful. “That you are on a mission to drive me mad today.”

“Oh?” Her lips twisted in a smug smile as she drained her own glass, discarding the glass carelessly on the bed before running her hand down Andy’s side. “Is it working?” Her eyes bet darkening amber and the look of mischief and allure Andy found looking back almost brought her to her knees.

With a groan, she pulled Miranda tighter and dipped her head, capturing her mouth with hers. Even though she knew better, even though she knew they were expected on deck for dinner and that if she was wrapped up in Miranda they were likely to never leave this room, she couldn’t help herself. She spun the editor around and backed her up against the table, rattling it and knocking the empty champagne glass over and sending it rolling off the table.

She felt as though she was burning and before Miranda knew it, she had her lifted onto the table and was moving in between the gate of her hips, pressing against her. The feel of Andy there, so eager and ready pulled a gasp and low moan from her mouth and into her lover’s. Her hands slid from Andy’s chest to her shoulders and up around her neck, pulling her closer, wanting as much of her in that moment as she could.

“Mira…” Andy groaned into her mouth. “I need you…” She pulled the editor tighter against her.

Miranda gasped, knowing that that they couldn’t right now. “We can’t…oohhh…” Her already weak protest died on her lips when Andy’s fingers slid down to her thighs and under the hem of her short dress, and not wasting any time, swiped over her sex.

“Fuck…” She growled. Miranda was wet and hot through her thin barely there lace panties. That coupled with the knowledge that Miranda wanted her just as badly as Andy wanted her, drove the brunette further and further to the point of no return.

Her fingers pressed further, slipping under Miranda’s panties and into the wetness there and she moved into her further, one hand moving to the table behind her as Andy tilted her back.

“Andy…” She groaned, tearing her mouth from her lover as her thumb moved to run a devastating circle around her clit. “We…we can’t…” Her hands moved into Andy’s hair and she tugged, pulling her attention to her. “I want to. Fuck… I do, but if we do that…”

“We won’t leave this room.” Andy groaned in frustration. She leaned forward and pressed her forehead against her lover’s as she took deep steadying breaths.

She didn’t want some quick tumble. She wanted to take her time, be diligent and thorough until they were both sweaty messes. Anything less would be an injustice. She deliberated, before common sense won and she groaned again in frustration. With one last quick flicker of her finger over Miranda’s clit that had the woman clenching and gasping. Andy pulled her hand away, leaving Miranda moaning at the loss.

“Oh, that was cruel.” Her breath hitched.

Andy shook her head, smirking as she stepped back and adjusted her clothes, allowing Miranda to slide of the table to do the same. When they righted themselves, Miranda moved and pressed a chaste kiss to Andy’s cheek.

“You look stunning mu darling.”

“Sweet talker.” Andy hummed in amusement. She arched her shoulders then and offered her arm. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” Miranda grinned, slipping her arm into Andy’s and leaning up to kiss her once more before they left the room to join the party on deck.

The dinner that was served on deck was absolutely unbelievably. Some of the freshest, most succulent shellfish Miranda had ever eaten in her life was on the menu, as well as many other savory, cooked to perfection items. The food was paired perfectly with a selection of wines and of course, non-alcoholic ones, Andy had made sure in advance that they had in light of the children who insisted they wanted to be ‘grown-ups’ for the night.

Dinner lasted several hours and by the time they were finished everyone’s cheeks hurt from laughing and they were all more than a little bit tipsy.

She never wanted this feeling to end. The feeling that no matter what, as long as she had these people in her corner, all was right with the world. The unspeakable joy, the happiness buzzing within her, call her sentimental but she never wanted the night to end, she never wanted this feeling to end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Monaco Grand Prix was huge affair. The Circuit de Monaco spanned the city streets of Monte Carlo and La Condamine, including the famous harbourm which they had docked mere hours before.

Cristi’s automobile had been flown in the day before and assessed and serviced by their pit crew more times than they could count. There was paparazzi and journalists everywhere and they had taken a special interest in the arrival of the Riot Club and had gone berserk when they realized that they were with their significant others.

Their little group had navigated the streets of Monte Carlo looking like the perfect definition of European Royalty. Their security teams prevented any close proximity but that didn’t stop the paps had shouted question after question at Miranda, who pulled on her Prada sunglasses and arched her neck imperiously as Andy tugged her along.

Serena wrapped her arm around Emily as they camera flashes shot from every direction but instead of cowing, the Brit handled herself with grace and the stiff upper lip of her people.

Nigel adored it. He truly did. He basked in the light of the camera without looking eager or desperate. He eyed them as though they were lucky he had taken the time to deign them with his presence.

Cristi found it particularly amusing.

Within moments, they were setting Cristi up in his gear while the pit crew did their final checks. With a few minutes before the race was set to start, everyone gave the Spaniard quick hugs as they headed to the VIP skybox near the finish line, set up to overlook the circuit.

“Kissed him good luck?” Andy bumped Nigel’s shoulder as they watched Cristi slide into the car, offering a wink and a wave in Nigel’s direction as he did. The older man turned a delicate shade of pink before grinning.

“Of course.”

As they made themselves comfortable in the Skybox, watching the Circuit through the massive pane windows and on the flat screen TVs that were fixed to the walls on the other side of the room. Their eyes focused on Cristi as he slowly maneuvered the sleek red and black sports car out of the pit area and onto the track.

Serena smiled as he began to gain speed and smoothly curved around the first corner. “See how he moves around the corner smoother than last year?” She murmured to Andy. “I knew the weight distributor would work.”

Cristi’s car zoomed around another corner and towards the finish line and even Miranda found herself grinning as she spotted his own wide, excited smile on the camera as the car whizzed by for another lap. Andy cheered when he drifted around another corner effortlessly. She knew he was going to take this one home again. As they watched him go, they spoke over one another as they filled in Miranda, Nigel and Emily on the intricacies, skill and rules of the sport. Cheering every time Cristi whizzed past.

“He’s really going fast huh?” Nigel watched in amazement as Cristi’s speed almost tripled.

Andy leaned forward with a frown, he was on his final lap and was clearly in the lead, but he was going was too fast. Maybe he was showing off, she shot Serena a look. “Slow down Cristi.” Serena murmured as the car moved to pass them, the rate of the speed almost alarming.

When the car blew past them, the smile that would normally be stretched across a triumphant Cristi’s face was absent; replaced by a combination of concentration and fear that send alarm bells ringing in Serena’s and Andy’s head and they were on their feet in seconds.

As he shot across the finish line and the crowd went wild.

He didn’t stop.

“Something’s wrong!” Andy reached for her phone, her voice unsteady as anxiety filled her entire body. She turned and took off towards the pit where the track staff was gathered; she could see a flurry oof activity happening and it only heightened her sense of dread. “We need to get down there now!” She turned to one of her guards. “Take a team and get the children back to the boat.”

“What’s- what’s-” Nigel felt sick. He felt as though his entire stomach had bottomed out.

Serena and Andy quickly ushered them out of the Skybox before running to the Pit station. Serena’s heart began to pound as she approached the pit and she heard the word ‘brakes’ being called out several times in panic. Before she could reach them and ask them exactly what was going on, she heard tires squeal and she whirled toward the sound. She gasped as she watch the car barely navigate a corner, tipping up on the two side tires before righting itself and speeding down the track again.

”What the fuck is happening here!” Andy yelled to the Pit supervisor who looked as though he was seconds from passing out.

“I-I-I-I-”

“Say a fucking word man!” Serena yelled.

“The brakes are malfunctioning. I don’t- we-we-checked-”

“I worked on that car before we sent it here. You only had to look it over! What the fuck did you do!?!” Serena reached for the man, her eyes blazed. Emily quickly held her back as the blonde fought her hold.

“Serena!” Emily yelled, trying to get the other woman to calm down and focus on the problem instead of trying to kill the idiot.

Nigel was numb, his entire body frozen as his throat seized.

Then as if by some invisible string, they all turned to watch the careening car approached another turn, having no choice but to try to take it. The tires lifted from the ground, and when they realized that the car wasn’t going to be able to right itself this time, Nigel screamed -a sound of pure terror coming from his mouth.

The crash seemed to happen in slow motion. The car lost complete control and caught the side of the track. Another scream pierced the air as it came completely off the ground and flipped over to the grass – the rate of force at which it hit sending it into several more flips before it finally landing upside down in the grassy, center of the track. Black smoke pouring from the undercarriage.

There was this moment where everything went silent. The sounds of the crashing car faded out and in its place, there was this beat of pure shock that swept the entire Circuit. Not one spectator moved, not one camera flashed.

Then as if a jolt of electricity passed through every living thing, the silence erupted and the entire Pit crew rushed forward, ambulances screamed in the distance, rushing to the car that Cristi was in; the car that was lying upside down and badly damaged on the grass in the center of the track.

Andy’s hand shook as it clutched fiercely to Miranda’s before she was off, tugging the older woman behind her who kept up with ease, Serena and Emily, pulling a deathly pale Nigel were on their heels.

They didn’t care that the media was covering it, that the world was seeing them scream and fight at their personal guards who wanted to whisk them away to safety.

Cristi was in there.

That was all that mattered.

They were listening to their guards, they barely comprehended any of the words that anyone around them was saying as they tried to pull them away from the scene.

Then, the saw it happen. They saw the first responders reach in and pull Cristobal from the vehicle, and Miranda fought the bile that threatened to spew out.

Nigel was visibly shaking and she was sing all her strength to keep him on his feet.

They watched in horror, as the beautiful, full of life man that serenaded his lover with the guitar just yesterday, who danced and told them jokes was pulled out onto the grass, limp and covered in blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. – B.S.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. Here’s another chapter, stay safe and I hope you enjoy. – B.S.

Nigel twitched, his leg kicking out before he jerked awake. Despite the cool conditioned air of the hospital suite, he was still covered in a light sheen of sweat as his chest heaved. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was black smoke, crumpled red and dancing flames.

It was almost four days after the crash and he’d barely slept for a few minutes. Each time he dozed off, he was jerked awake by the same vision, with a few minor changes. Sometimes he would see Cristi looking up at it, wide eyed, unblinking, and unfeeling…cold…empty.

Other times the younger man would be screaming at the top of his lungs as the flames of the car consumed. He was trapped inside. It didn’t matter how it happened, the end results were always the same. Nigel would be huddled on the grown, tears streaming down his face as he watched the light from the man he loved eyes dwindle to nonexistence.

Again, he shuddered, blinking at the dark room as his eyes found the flashing digital clock on the wall. It was a little after three in the morning. He was right, he had only dozed off for a few minutes. He sat up; the blanket that he curled up under fell to the floor as he swung his sock clad feet over the edge.

The hospital had truly been accommodating by allowing him to stay overnight, even offering him a cot….and by accommodating he meant Miranda had spewed fire and rained terror on the staff until her demands were met with acquiescence.

He was grateful, his thoughts had been a mess and lost his voice somewhere on that track, but Miranda and Emily held him up, kept his legs moving…kept his body from shaking and crumbling to the floor. He didn’t know what he would do if they hadn’t been there.

He heard the hush whisper of voices just on the other side of the door and like a marionette; the strings of his mind pulled him to thoughts of the past few hours.

_The Paramedics had rolled Cristi’s stretcher to the waiting Medevac chopper, only two could go with him. Serena shot Andy a look, her eyes thundering but when the brunette offered a quick jerk of her head, the blonde pulled Nigel by the hand and tugged him into the chopper._

_The two sat in the corner, watching as the three paramedics on board frantically tried saving the unconscious Spanish Lord. In the midst of the chaos, one of Cristi’s hands plopped over the edge, hanging limply, swinging with every jerk of the chopper. Nigel felt the sob bubble within him as he jerked forward and clenched the bloodied limb between his._

_He held on so tightly, almost as if in fear that it would disappear from out of his grasp. Serena sat rigid beside him, but her eyes were blood shot and well with tears threatening to spill over. He knew the woman was being strong for him; they both couldn’t be a hysteric mess. He knew it was selfish. She was Cristi’s sister, his best friend, they had known each other all their lives, if anyone was to be a hysterical mess, it should have been her…but he couldn’t._

_He couldn’t keep it together…he couldn’t be calm and reassuring. Not when the man he loved so desperately laid there fighting for his life. He looked over at her, expecting to see irritation, maybe even a bit of anger…but he found none. Through the weld tears, he could, he could see this deep form of understanding. This deep sense of “I got you both.” He was free to weep…he was free to feel. With a grateful nod, he turned back to his Spaniard, but he could hear her, murmuring under her breath. He could barely make out the words, but he knew it was Spanish…the blonde was praying._

_His hands clutched Cristi’s tighter._

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

_Andy watched the Chopper lift off as they waited for their private one to land. Attempting to drive through Monaco today would be madness. The streets were jammed pack, and traffic would be hell. They couldn’t spare the time. Anger burned within her, she was furious as she whirled around on the Pit Manager._

_“How could you let this happen?!” She snapped as she swung her fist._

_The snap of broken bone under her hand didn’t bring the satisfaction she thought it would. Not even when the man yelled in pain and grippe his bloodied nose did Andy stop. She fisted his collar and slammed him to the asphalt._

_Considering the man was 6 feet and burly did not register to the young aristocrat. Her eyes burned and promised swift and painful retribution._

_“I-I-I…”_

_She clutched his collar tighter, lifted his upper body before slamming him to the floor once more._

_“Speak damn you!” She yelled again as she raised her fist, ready to release her frustration in the man whom she deemed responsible._

_As the hand moved, it was halted mid-air. She looked up to see Miranda’s hand clutching her arm. The woman’s hand was so tight that her knuckles resembled her hair._

_“I know you’re hurting…” Her normally cool and indifferent voice gave way to a strain sound that cracked at the end. “…but Cristobal needs us. We have to go my darling.” She implored when Andy looked as though she wanted to go back to her ‘interrogation.’_

_Andy turned and looked down at the cowering man, it was his eyes that led Andy to attack. He looked…guilt, but that could be explained away. He felt responsible that the crash had happened under his watch, but that wasn’t it. Something about it his eyes seemed so…nervous, so…shifty and jittery; as if he was afraid he was about to be caught._

_She gestured to her guards. They were to ‘keep him company’ until the authorities arrived. For now, she would be with Cristi. Their vengeance could come later._

_Miranda watched as her lover rose to her feet, wiping her hand on a handkerchief given to her by one of her guards before discarding it on the man whose blood it bore. The brunette then laced her hand with hers, wrapped her arm around ashen Emily’s shoulder before walking them to the waiting Chopper._

_As they settled into their seats, something niggled at the back of Miranda’s mind. A sinking feeling that this was deliberate._

_“Was it an accident?” Emily seemed to have read her mind, voicing the thoughts that was bringing the editor to unease._

_“You know Serena, when has she ever made a mistake?”_

_The cabin grew silent save for the sound of the propellers. They all knew Andy was right. Not that Serena was perfect, but the woman was so meticulous, so precise. She would have checked that car fifty times before shipping it out. Ensuring that every nook and cranny was accounted for, that every piece of equipment or part was functioning at optimal efficiency. The blonde left nothing to chance, ever._

_So the fact that the crash was a brake failure…well…they all knew what that meant._

_“Sabotage.” Miranda voiced. It wasn’t a question and it was barely a statement. The word was spoken with a sort of empty resignation._

_Andy turned to the window, watching as the track grew further away. She jerked her head in affirmation without looking away._

_“Bloody hell.” Emily swore._

_Miranda’s mind screeched to halt when she remembered the call from the burner phone almost a week earlier. ‘It couldn’t…could it?’ Her eyes widened as she looked at Andy._

_“Do you think?”_

_“Yes.” Andy voice hardened._

_“Fuck.” Miranda was never one to curse casually, but she felt the situation required it._

_“What?” Emily frowned._

_Miranda sighed when Andy didn’t answer. Her eyes were still riveted at the window. So, she turned to redhead and quickly told her about their suspicions._

_“Fuck.” Emily slumped back in her chair._

_“Indeed.” Miranda pinched the bridge of her nose._

_“What’s the plan then?”_

_“We’ll need to update Serena…let’s keep this from Nigel, at least for now. I don’t think we should-”_

_  
“Agreed.” Miranda rushed out. She remembered the look of despair and hopelessness in her dear friend’s eyes. This would break him._

_“I’ll call Armand and Danari. They should hear it from us and not the news.” Emily spoke when the silence became overwhelming. “And arrange for the jet to pick them up.”_

_Andy looked at her with nothing short of gratitude. ‘Thank you.’ She mouthed. She didn’t have the strength to call her aunts and uncles and tell them that Cristi was fighting for his life._

_‘Anytime.’ Emily mouthed back before pulling out her phone to make the arrangements before calling them._

_~~~~~~~~~~~~_

_Nigel remembered when a frantic Danari had burst into the room. Cristi had just gotten out of surgery, the doctors had piled in the room to give them an update, but there words were droned out by the wail of a mother in anguish. The doors almost flew off the hinges as she came barreling through and when she saw her son…well, there wasn’t a dry eye in the room._

_She wept, she screamed. She was furious. Armand clutched at his wife. He was silent, but from the drop of his shoulder and the hollowness of his eyes, the proud man was almost broken._

_As the doctors relayed the injuries, the room took a collective sigh of relief. Cristobal would be okay. Very bruised, very sore, a few cracks and fractures, but very much okay. ‘It was a miracle,’ the doctors whispered in awe. By all accounts, they should have been planning for the Spaniard’s funeral, but here they were, keeping vigil over man that was very much alive, though not so much well._

_Serena had done a little half smile, one that drew a questioning gaze from Emily._

_“Remember that metal alloy I was experimenting with? The one that I was hoping to use an internal cocoon” She said to Andy._

_Andy frowned, confused what that had to do with the situation. “The crash resis-” Her eyes widened. “You perfected the formula!”_

_“Last week.”_

_“Holy shit. And you-”_

  
_“Installed it a few days ago.”_

_“Holy shit Rena.” Andy bent over, her hands on her knees as both laughter and tears bubbled up. When the rom realized what Serena had done. They looked at her with awe, pride and most of all gratitude. “Holy shit.” She straightened before rushing across the room and pulling Serena in a bone-crushing hug. “You’re a fucking genius.”_

_“I know this.” She murmured._

_When Andy finally released her, she found herself encased between her Aunt Danari and Uncle Armand._

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

Nigel shook himself from his memories. He took a breath as his eyes fell to Cristi. Anxiety rose within for despite the good news, Cristi had yet to wake up. The doctors had said they would need to wait for him to wake up to determine if there was any lasting brain damage, yet they reassure them every few hours when they would question it. _‘He will wake up.”_ They’d say. “ _He’s young and strong, don’t worry_.”

They seemed confident. ‘ _Just give him time_ ,’ they would say, but the longer he took, the more Nigel felt his stomach bottoming out and the nervous flicker they would say it with as they days progressed made the unease in all of them grow.

With a sigh, he made his way to adjoining ensuite and turned on the faucet. He listened to the water run as he stared at himself in the large pane glass. How was it possible to age so much in such a short time? His skin was blotchy and red; the bags under his grew dark and puffy.

He looked haggard. He thought of what Cristi would say if he saw him, and a low chuckle rose from his mouth. He could just hear him now. _“Och, hermoso, tell me what stresses you out and I’ll slay it for you.”_ Then he would do this cheesy wink that if Nigel was being honest, did things to his heart.

He splashed cold water on his face, trying to ‘wake’ himself up, before patting it dry with a towel. In all his years as a fashionista, the right hand to the queen herself, his appearance meant everything, but now, he didn’t care what he looked like, he just wanted, no needed those Hazel eyes to open and tell him everything was okay. Everything else came second to that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emily had barely managed to convince Serena back to Cristi’s Monaco villa where they had set up a ‘base of operations,’ the blonde much like Andy had refused to leave their brother’s side and it was only after the adrenaline had left them and the stress and strain had slammed into them that they relented.

The blonde had gone to shower and Emily had decided to lay out some sweat pants and hoodie for the blonde to wear when she got out. Normally an abomination to her Runway sensibilities, she thought if ever there was a time she was to make an exception. This was it.

When the shower ran consistently for almost 45 minutes, she grew worried. So she knocked and called out to her other half, a call that went unanswered.

Making a decision, she creaked the door open. Slightly enough not to intrude on Serena’s privacy but enough where her voice could be heard about the thundering water.

“Serena love?” She called out again.

Silence.

Remembering something Miranda once said, she opened the door fully. _“It’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission.”_ In this moment, she couldn’t agree more. What she found almost broke her heart.

The blonde was huddled on the floor of the shower. Her knees pulled up as she hunched over them, her arms wrapped around them as her shoulders shook.

“Oh baby.” Emily whispered and without a second thought or care about the clothes she was wearing, she opened the glass doors and knelt down beside her.

She then pulled the other woman into her arms, murmuring sweet nothings and comforting words as the blonde turned into her, wrapping her arms around Emily’s neck and sobbing a deep wrenching ache.

“It’ll be okay love, I promise. You did everything right. You protected him.” She ran her hand down the blonde’s naked back. “You did great baby.” She hummed into wet hair, even as her own eyes weld with tears that disappeared as the water cascaded and drenched her. “You did great and he’ll be okay.” She whispered again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Villa was somber. The children decided to share a room and only came out to offer their adults comforting hugs or ask about their Uncle. Matalon had flown in and after she had rained down hell on her agents for their failures, she had ordered security to be tripled; no one could enter the compound without the highest of clearance. They turned Cristi’s vacation home into a fortress.

Malthe, Asta and Ainsley had followed Danari to the hospital while Richard and Armand had stayed behind to make all the necessary calls and to sleep, they had held vigil with Nigel the night before.

Miranda wondered how such an amazing trip could go wrong so fast. They never saw it coming. They let their guards down and someone took advantage of it.

Over the last few days, Miranda had undertaken the role as the family’s spoke person. Handling the press, fielding questions, she even had to do a brief press conference on the lawn of the hospital. If the continent wasn’t familiar with her before, they knew her now. She had verbally eviscerate a few reporters, and she used the term loosely, who had thought they could cow down and bully the American. When the conference ended, none could look her in the eye without anxiously flickering their gaze away.

Yes, the dragon had showed herself proud, and protected the interests of the Sachs-Van Visser-Benavente family, with Emily at her side, eyes flaming with promised retribution, pride and gusto, like a fierce mama bears who would strike down any threat. If the family hadn’t accepted the two in their folds before, they were irreplaceable and adored now.

Now Miranda watched from the headboard of the bed she was propped up in as Andy entered the room. The editor watched Andy sit on the edge of their bed before she raised each leg and tugged her boots off, carelessly discarding them on the floor. Normally Miranda would sniff at this until the younger woman shot her cheeky grin before moving to put her shoes in the closet, but now she could see the sheer exhaustion weighing down on her shoulders.

Andy had been meeting with their security team to discuss the way forward. A meeting that lasted almost 5 hours. When the brunette dropped her feet to the ground, she slowly moved to tug off her jacket, but Miranda was there before it slid down her shoulder.

Andy looked over her shoulder at the Editor, her tired eyes questioning. Instead of answering, Miranda pressed a light kiss to her forehead before pulling off the jacket for her. She threw it the floor before tugging at the hem of Andy’s shirt. That too followed the fate of the jacket.

She then made her way off the bed around Andy, stepping between the younger woman’s open thighs before unbuttoning and unzipping her pants. There was nothing sexual in the way she undressed her lover. Her every touch was filled with aching tenderness and comfort. Letting the other woman know that she was here and that they would always take care of each other.

Miranda looked up to see silent tears streaming from amber eyes. Andy looked at her as though she were her everything and like her arms were the only place she could feel safe…where she could find comfort. Miranda leaned forward and pressed a light kiss over each eye before gently thumbing away the droplets.

As Andy raised her hips, allowing Miranda to tug down the slacks, the woman pulled her feet free from each pant leg before throwing it over her shoulder. Finally undressed, Miranda moved to her previous position of sitting up against the headboard, then with one finger she beckoned Andy to her.

With a sigh of relief, the brunette crawled her way up the bed, before laying her head on the editor’s lap. She wrapped her arms around Miranda’s waist using her thumb to gently stroke at the small of her lover’s back, as the older woman ran her fingers through thick brown locks.

No words were needed as an easy quietness settled over them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nigel made his way back into the room, flipping the lights off as the steady beeping of the machine gave him a sense of comfort. As long as it was beeping, he could calm his thoughts and ground himself. As long as it beeped, Cristi was alive and he took comfort in the sound.

His eyes drifted to the man in question, so instead of attempting to reclaim sleep, he moved to Cristi’s bed. Perching on the edge, careful not to disturb any wires or tubes he reached for the other man’s hand. Gently entwining their fingers together, he carefully ran his thumb along the back of his lover hand, careful to avoid the IV needle.

With the other, he gently brushed the flop if curly hair that hung almost to his eyes. He snorted at the thought of ever asking the man to cut his locks, a giggle escaped him at the affronted look he could just picture Cristi giving him at the mere suggestion. “ _My precious mane hermoso, surely you jest?”_ He feathered his fingers carefully over the gashes, bruises and scratches.

“Oh, what have they done to your beautiful my love?” He whispered.

He knew something wasn’t right, but whenever the others saw him, they would stop their hushed conversation and look at him as though he were something that could break at any moment; but he saw it, he knew.

He didn’t care whether Cristi would scar or if his face had been mangled, he only cared that he was alive, alive and able to smile at him with that boyish charm that left him week in the knees as he told him he loved him. “You’re still the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.” Nigel whispered as he pressed his lips to Cristi’s hand before closing his eyes and rubbing his cheek across the Spaniard’s palm.

“Swear?” A voice croaked.

Nigel eyes shot open and his heart flipped, but when he looked down, he saw that Cristi’s eyes were closed and he hadn’t moved. It was just his imagination then, the thought made him feel like crying.

Then he felt it. His breath sucked in and felt every hair on his body still. He hoped with everything in his body, that the slight twitch he felt on his cheek was real. He waited with bated breath, willing Cristi to do it again, when he felt it. Another twitch, as if the younger man was trying to graze his fingers across Nigel cheek in the way he always did to comfort the older man.

That was all Nigel needed. With a gasp he hoped off the bed and moved closer to Cristi’s face waiting as those beautiful eyes flickered and twitched open. Nigel knew in this moment that this moment would be one of his most profound memories. Even in his old age, he would never forget it.

“Cristi?” He frantically coaxed the man. “Cristi sweetheart? Can you hear me?”

“Nige?” His voice was weak and Nigel could hear the strain with every word.

  
“Follow my voice baby. Come on, open those eyes for me.” Nigel felt the tears stream down his face. A smile pulled at his lips, his first genuine smile in what felt like months.

“What…where…?” He finally managed to get out; his mouth was dry and everything was fuzzy and he couldn’t seem to make everything make sense.

Nigel quickly pressed the call button for the nurses’ station before giving Cristi his full attention. “You gave us all quiet the scare.” He stroked the hair from his forehead.

“I’m so sor-” He stopped and tried to swallow, trying to get some moisture in his mouth.

“Shhh, none of that now.” Nigel rubbed at his own eyes before smiling down at his lover.

Cristi’s vision was still slightly blurred, but he could tell by the strain on his misterio’s face that he was lucky to be alive, much less wake up. He felt somber and elated all at once and his mind and body ached something fierce. Yet the only thing he could manage when he looked at Nigel was…

“Och, hermoso, tell me what stresses you out and I’ll slay it for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. – B.S.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sincerely apologize for the long wait, I hadn't even realized it has almost been a month since my last update, I have been extremely busy mind you, but I have decided to remedy delay with a quickness. 
> 
> There is only a few chapters left in this story, and I have promised someone that I would finish before the new year, so I will do my utmost to follow through. So expect rapid fire coming your way.
> 
> As always, I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. Here’s another chapter, stay safe and I hope you enjoy. – B.S.

Nigel felt every bone in his body melt at the words. A strange feeling bubbled within him until he could barely contain the laughter that erupted from his mouth. His eyes widened as he subconsciously pressed a hand quickly to his lips.

Lips that stretched in the widest grin. His eyes stung something fierce as the first tell-tale prickle of tears burned. As he opened, his mouth to speak the door opened and a doctor came rushing in. The fashion director hadn’t even realized he’d pressed the call button.

The doctor drew back with a frown when there was no wailing of machines or frantic crying and screaming. She looked at the hospital bed and was met with hazel eyes staring back her. She could see the gleam of disorientation and a slight smile pulled at her lips as she realized Cristi was awake.

“Well then.” Relief coated her voice, her eyes moving between Nigel and Cristi as she walked over, pulling her stethoscope from around her neck as she went. “Welcome back Cristobal. I am Doctor Maelys Lorenzi and that is…” She gestured to the man dressed in scrubs who stood behind her, “…Nurse Luca.” She pressed the stethoscope to his chest and after a few seconds of nodding to herself, she motioned for the nurse to come closer. “Luca will be taking your vitals and then we can determine our course of treatment.”

The nurse moved quickly around the young Lord, taking his temperature, rechecking his heartbeat. Cristi’s eyes left the Doctor’s and returned to Nigel’s, the older man was still clutching one of his hands as though his life depended on it.

The young Lord’s eyes crinkled and softened even as the Nurse told him to take a deep breath. He did and his face immediately twisted in pain.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned, his eyes closing as he let out the breath.

Nigel turned wide eyes up to the nurse who gave him a warm, sympathetic smile and said, “It’s the broken ribs.”

“Broken ribs?” Cristi gasped his voice hoarse as he opened his eyes again.

“Six to be exact.” Doctor Lorenzi said from across the room. “…and a broken collar bone…and a sprained diaphragm…and a…”

“I think he gets it.” Nigel quickly snapped when he saw Cristi widened, a hint of fear lingering in the Hazel depths.

“Fucking hell.” He whispered again as he really looked down at himself for the first time since he woke up. His body was covered in bandage and his left arm from the elbow down was encased in a cast.

His breathing was rattled and a shadow stole over his face. Nigel felt the tears well; he knew his young lover was suffering, the physical pain he must be in, he just wanted to hold him in his arms and prevent the world from coming too close. He’d run his hands through his hair, gently massaging his scalp –a thing that would have the young Spaniard purring in contentment- as he whispered sweet nothing, telling him that all would be okay.

As he opened his mouth to do just that, a bustling commotion from outside interrupted. Suddenly the doors banged open and in a flurry of wailing and tears, Danari screamed at the top of her lungs, “Tafali!” _My baby!_ Within seconds, she was by his bedside shoving the nurse out of the way then held his face between her trembling hands. “My beautiful baby boy.” She whispered.

“Mama…” Cristi groaned as his cheeks reddened.

“Hush now Cristi.” Ainsley murmured over her friend’s shoulder. “You had us all so worried.”

He shot her a sheepish grin that was known to get him out of trouble on many an occasion.

“I’ll call everyone.” Malthe mouthed to Asta before gently squeezing his nephew’s leg. “Good to have you back my boy.”

Nigel closed his eyes in embarrassment, he hadn’t even thought of calling in everyone else. Asta, seeing the distress on the fashion editor’s face walked over to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders before pressing a kiss to his forehead. “We understand more than you think, don’t stress over it. Worry about yourself and how to keep this one…” She shot Cristi an unamused look that fought with the affection she knew was there. “…out of trouble.”

His shoulders slumped in relief as he settled into the older woman’s embrace. “Giving me the impossible tasks huh.”

“Hermoso!” Cristi’s mouth gaped in shock.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next few hours were a flurry of activities; the press had gone wild when they heard from inside source –who was currently getting a severe dressing down- that the young Lord woke sometime in the wee hours. They had all spent what seemed like forever in the deepest depths of purgatory. The rest of the family had burst into the room with an urgency, their need to see that he was up and kicking trumped all else.

Andy and Serena where on him, even as the nurse protested. “He can take it!” Andy had shouted, refusing to let him go.

“Murder, they’re trying to kill me!” Cristi had yelled.

“Shut up and let us hug you before I go home and eat all your imported cookies.” Serena had arched a brow at him.

“Fine.” He pouted. Knowing the threat was very much real.

The two were much gentler after that.

Miranda and Emily had waited until they had finished with him, before they each pressed a kiss to the top of his head. No words were needed from the two who offered soft smile and cheeky winks.

Doctor Lorenzi, who had stepped out before now returned with a tablet in hand, scrolling as she hummed to herself. After reviewing the Nurse’s findings and thoroughly examining his wounds over herself, with a sigh of relief she informed the room that her patient was progressing well. A collective sigh stole over the room when she told them the swelling in his brain –the thing she had been worrying about the most- was going down and the bleeding had stopped.

He was very much lucky to still be alive, much less walking and with no evident brain deficiencies.

Andy drew Miranda into her arms, clutching the woman fiercely as she breathed for what felt like the first time in days. When she looked over her lover’s shoulders, she saw everyone doing the same. Holding their partners with tenderness and relief. Serena shot her a quick nod, her eyes speaking everything that went unsaid.

“Come love, let’s leave them some privacy.” She nodded to her Danari and Armand who hadn’t moved from Cristi’s bedside, Nigel was still perched on the bed, he had yet to release Cristobal’s hand.

Miranda wrapped her hand around Andrea’s waist as she tucked herself into the brunette’s side. “Take me for a walk.”

“Tired of being cooped up are we?” Andy chuckled as she pressed a kiss to Miranda’s hair.

“Well you did promise me that you’d take me to see the city.”

“I did? I don’t remember doing that.”

“Oh?” Miranda pulled on her Prada sunglasses as the flashes of the paparazzi the guards were keeping at bay assaulted them. Latching the buttons on her red Valentino cape, she looked over her shoulder and pulled her glasses down slightly, freezing Andy with piercing blue eyes. “It must have been another brunette I had in my bed then.” She turned with an arch and a subtle flourish before pushing the sunglasses back up.

That look was….“Oh…oh wow.” Andy murmured when she felt tingles that had raced through her body.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dusk had approached. Miranda’s favorite time of day. The sky was flurry of vibrant reds and oranges, wisping about as they danced with each other. She had her heels in her left hand the other encased in Andy’s gentle yet strong grip. Her slacks were rolled up mid shin and her toes wiggled in the sands as the tide tickled at the sides of her feet. She had relinquished her coat to one of the guards and now the gentle breeze rolled around her. They had guards some paces away keeping the paparazzi at bay, though they still clicked their infernal cameras at them.

Andy strolled beside her, her boots discarded somewhere behind them, she was sure someone had picked them up. The brunette’s hair was loose and so the gentle breeze tugged at it, the slight cool bringing a light flush to her cheeks. Her ember eyes were bright and shone with a sort of carefree mischief that made Miranda slightly breathless.

The brunette tugged at the hand that she held, before twirling the editor and pulling her flush against her own body.

“Fancy seeing you here.” She offered a cheeky grin that had Miranda snorting as she rolled her eyes.

“Is that the best you can do Westminster.” Miranda found herself nervously fiddling with her earing at the blatant affection and tenderness that was staring down at her.

“I’ll have you know that I always give you my best lines Priestly.”

“Oh?” Her lips tilted slightly, if it were anyone else, they wouldn’t have noticed it, or the slight shift in her voice that pushed her from disinterested to amused.

Andy was completely fascinated by the woman.

“If that was one of your best then, well, you’re lucky you’re not unfortunate looking.”

Andy threw her head back and laughed. A peal of laughter that drew the attention of everyone who heard. It was that picture that made the tabloids that night.

The image of the bluest blood on the continent laughing in carefree glee, the wind blowing in her hair, her arms encased around her lover, THE Miranda Priestly, who was looking up the brunette as though she hung the moon and stars, a slight smile tugging at the corner of her lips. The sun setting in the back as the vivid blue of the sea danced at their feet. Miranda would have that picture framed and hung on their mantle one day, and every time she would pass it, she would seek out the younger woman and plant the most heart-stopping kiss on her lips before she was once again on her way, leaving a stunned, extremely pleased Andrea Sachs behind without a single explanation.

“I fear we aren’t being discreet.” Miranda murmured as her eyes flickered to the flashing light in the distance.

“Am I to be your dirty little secret Priestly?” Andy’s eyes crinkled with amusement.

Miranda rubbed her thumb against the back of Andy's hand before raising on tiptoes, something that had Andy giggling.

“You’re so short.”

Miranda rolled her eyes with a huff before settling back on her heels. “And here I was trying to be romantic.”

“Aw come on Priestly, it’s the cutest thing.”

“And I’m leaving.” She tried to pull herself free of Andrea’s hold, but the woman’s arms wouldn’t budge. Instead the brunette bent her head and pressed her forehead against the editor’s.

That was the picture that had made Andy weak in the knees. She would keep it on her desk at work. Whichever office she travelled to, it came with her, and whenever she grew frustrated or tired, or her eyes would catch it by happenstance in the middle of paper work or a meeting a sort of calmness would steal over her.

She wouldn’t be able to stop the easy smile that stretched at her lips nor would she be able to help herself from spinning her chair around to look over the skyline of whichever country she was in, a phone pressed to her ear waiting on the sound of Miranda’s voice.

Miranda reached up, pressing a sweet slow kiss to the brunette’s lip. When she eventually pulled away, she tugged at the young aristocrat’s hand, pulling her down the stretch of beach as they spoke about everything and nothing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Matalon pinched the bridge of her nose. She was on a video conference with her core team and they knew that whenever she got silent, that meant they had one foot in the grave.

Hunter winced when her twitching foot slammed under the table; a sound that echoed in the deathly silent room like a bomb had exploded.

“Can someone, _anyone_ give me a status report that doesn’t make me want to commit homicide?” Her voice was low and stinging.

“We-” Meyer’s voice squeaked before she quickly cleared her throat. “My team was able to pinpoint who tampered with the car.” She swiped her fingers up and the image moved to the hologram table. A picture of a Caucasian man whose face was partially obscured by his lowered baseball cap illuminated the room.

“Who is he?” Matalon leaned forward in her chair.

“That-that we have quite figured out. I’ve searched every database on the planet. We haven’t gotten any hits, but we’re still looking.” She straightened, preparing herself for the dressing down she was sure was coming.

Instead, Matalon once again pinched the bridge of her nose as she released a sigh of frustration. “Where are on Dubai.”

“For feck’s sake Gi, tell em’ to call i’ off. I have a bad feelin’ about i’. None o’ this is a coincidence.”

“Have you picked up any chatter?”

Hunter cleared her throat. “The tail we had on the _good doctor_ confirms he’s been to Dubai and back twice in the last month.”

“As I said, coincidence? I think the feck no’” Dougal growled.

“Dougal, Hunter I want you two on the ground.”

“You’re not going to stop them?” Hunter frowned, the fact that ATLAS was formed for to protect the Sachs-Van Visser-Benavente family was only part of their mission, they were essentially a private army and intelligence agency that, well, _‘cleaned up,’_ and took certain ‘ _preventative measure’_ across the globe when the need arose, but still, the trio’s safety was extremely important.

Meyer snorted as Matalon shot her a long-suffering look. “I know them, so we’ll prepare for the inevitable.”

“Which is?”

“They’ll do the right thing, even if it kills them.” Again, she pinched the bridge of her nose. “So I need you two on the ground. Pick your team and back up, but I need you two there to do recon.”

And with that her screen went blank.

“To Dubai then.” Hunter turned with a sigh to face her mentor.

“Damn it, I hate the fecking sand.” Dougal groaned at the thought of the pesky things getting everywhere.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda leaned against the headrest in the town car that maneuvered through the light Monacan traffic. Andrea had returned to the hospital after their impromptu little walk on the beach. She had entered the car and seen Miranda off with a kiss that left the editor gasping against the cushioned seats before tugging on her coat and existing the vehicle.

Her mind drifted to thoughts of beautiful little things. Things that made a shy smile pull at her lips and a light blush linger on her cheeks. It was thoughts of flowers, maybe a cathedral, and a Priest or a Rabbi…of tender looks, sweet words and the breathless whispers of “I do’s.” She nervously rubbed at her throat as stars twinkled above her.

She looked up and caught her reflection in the window and she drew back in surprise. Her eyes twinkled and ached with such need. Her lips were stretched in a smile beyond her control. Her hand subconsciously rose and her fingers trailed against her lips. There was something carefree and content in her expression.

Suddenly she felt shy and vulnerable and a low huff of laughter escaped her lips at the notion. Then a ringing pulled her from her thoughts. She hadn’t even looked at the number before answering, but as the voice of the other person rang across the line, the smile wiped from her lips and her happiness turned to ash.

“What do you want?” She hissed.

“To meet of course.” That annoyingly smug voice from the burner phone was even more infuriating now. He quickly prattled off an address.

Miranda felt sick. This lunatic was in Monaco?

“Like hell I will.” She bit out.

“Tsk, tsk Miranda. Remember what I said about hurting my feelings? You didn’t deliver the package I requested, that just, well, it just about tore me up inside.” He sniffed before continuing with a sickening glee. “I tend to act out when I’m hurt, just ask Cristobal. How is he doing by the way?”

Miranda’s hand whitened as it gripped the phone in a death vice. “That was-”

“Me? Why yes of course. Keep up Miranda. Ugh…” He said with disgust. “…they said you were smart, I’m seriously beginning to doubt that. Fortunately you’re beautiful.”

“You bastard.” Miranda hissed. “You won’t get away with it.”

“Won’t I? Because I feel like I’ve already done it.”

Miranda seethed.

“Tell your driver the address I told. I really want to see you dearest, oh and do come alone. I truly want you all to myself.” He crooned over the line, “Don’t hurt my feelings again, or the next time, well, I’ll be a little more meticulous.” And with that, the line went dead.

The only sound that echoed in the room was Miranda’s heavy breathing, her mind wild and chaotic. After a few second, she cleared her throat and composed herself. Running a hand through her hair, she straightened her shoulders, knocked at the partition, and told the driver the change of plans.

Trepidation settled in the pit of her stomach but she was Miranda Priestly and she would not cower.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda entered the abandoned warehouse after sending her driver away. The man looked uneasy when she told him to go, but the famous Priestly glare had the man off with a quickness.

So now here she stood, surrounded by filth and poor lighting. She rolled her eyes, how painfully cliché.

“Not to your liking dearest?” The voice rang from her left.

“Do not call me that.” Her voice was barely above a whisper but she hadn’t turned to acknowledge the owner.

“Why? Only your precious Andrea has the privilege?” He sneered. “You know you’re only a phase for her yes? She’ll grow bored of slumming it, then what? You’ll be all alone.”

Miranda refused to be goaded. Instead, she remained silent, her eyes piercing ahead. 

“I think you and I would complement each other nicely. Just give me what I want and I will give you the world, everything you’ve ever desired would be yours when you stand at my side.”

“Said the snake as he offered the fruit.”

He laughed something dark and cold. “Tell me Miranda, am I the devil in this story?”

“A poor attempt at one if you are truly curious.”

The man moved to stand a few paces in front of her. In another life, she might have found his handsome, with speckles of gray and deep green eyes. Now she found him vile and the cruel twist of his lips made him hideous.

“Such a sharp tongue, maybe I can find other uses for it.” He neared her and Miranda stiffed.

“Touch her...” Another voice joined them. It was cold and filled with so much barely controlled range that Miranda felt a shiver of fear slither down her spine. “…and I will remove your hands and beat you to death with them.”

The man drew back. “I should have known you wouldn’t be far behind Westminster.”

Andy moved from the shadows, six men in suits stood behind her, they eyed the man with open hostility. They were ready and willing to do the beating their Lady promised.

Andy nodded to one of her men who nodded back in understanding before quickly moving to Miranda ready to whisk her away. When the editor had rung her lover, the brunette had thought the woman was trying to lure her to bed.

She had answered the phone with eagerness, but when Miranda had told her what happened, the smile had vanished. A rage like no other shot through her. She had tried reasoning with the editor to go home and she would handle it. Miranda had vehemently refused, they were in this together, whatever happened they would face it together she had shot back at the brunette. Shutting down all Andy’s logical arguments.

Andy knew something was amiss, the lunatic must have had planned in the event that Miranda did not in fact turn up alone, but when she and her men arrived, a few minutes after Miranda, the compound was empty, not a single resistance in sight. Andy felt a niggling at the back of her mind, which was why she was glad that she for once carried back up. Whilst she would gamble with herself, she would never put Miranda’s life in danger.

Something still bothered her though.

Again, Miranda refused to leave. Instead, she moved to stand beside her lover, whose eyes shifted from anger to pride. Andy reached for Miranda’s hand and pressed a kiss to her palm, conveying everything she wanted to say with her eyes.

_‘It’ll be alright love, I swear it.’_

Miranda nodded, her forefinger quickly trailed against the brunette’s jaw in comfort before she withdrew her hand.

Andy took a deep breath before turning to the man who stood his body vibrating with anger and betrayal as he shot Miranda a look of accusation.

Miranda met his stare head on. She would not cower.

_‘You’ll regret this.’_ He mouthed.

Miranda arched a brow as Andrea moved closer to him, her movement slow and deliberate as she removed her jacket, giving it to one of her guards and rolled up her sleeves. Her eyes, her eyes were cold and hateful and filled with something that promised a swift and painful retribution.

“Now, where were we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. – B.S.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. Here’s another chapter, stay safe and I hope you enjoy. – B.S.

A cold chill swept over them as they left the warehouse. Miranda tugged her coat closer with her left hand as Andrea gripped her right tightly, slowly leading her to the parking lot. The aristocrat knuckles were red and slightly bruised but she paid no mind to it. Finding satisfaction in getting what she came for.

Answers.

Matalon watched as two of her charges moved towards her. Andy’s sleeves were still tugged up to her elbows and her once pristine white shirt had a splattering of her red across it. Andy face was grim and Matalon noticed that her jaw was clenched so tightly she was surprised that she hadn’t cracked her teeth. Miranda’s face on the other hand was an expressionless mask, save for the slight green hue of her cheeks, she would have been none the wiser of what she suspected the editor had just witnessed.

She watched as Andy turned and whispered in Miranda’s ear. The editor nodded as Andy ran her fingers up and down her arm in comfort, easing some of the tension from the older woman’s shoulders.

The Director sighed to herself. _‘This was all a fucking mess,’_ she thought as she took a drag from her cigarette.

Andy eyed the cigarette in surprise, her brows furrowed in confusion.

“I smoke when I’m stressed.”

“I thought you quit.”

“How could I? When you all take pleasure in stressing me out all _fucking_ time.” She snapped before taking another drag.

“I got what we needed.” Andy scowled at the rebuke.

“You got nothing he didn’t want you to have Andrea!”

“He almost killed Cristi! And Azza!” Her fists clenched as she tried reigning in her anger. “He would have taken Miranda. Do you think I would allowed that to happen!?”

“It is my job to-”

“Then do your fucking job!”

“Don’t you dare speak to me like that Andrea Sachs!”

“I-”

“Enough!” Miranda snapped as she stepped between the two. “Enough. Screaming at each other like _children_ will solve nothing.”

“She-”

“Enough Andrea.”

Andy pursed her lips ready to defend her actions once more, but when she saw Miranda’s eyes, she turned away in frustration. “Sorry.” She muttered to her Godmother, feeling embarrassed for having lost her temper on someone she considered another mother.

“You’re right.” She sighed. “You’re right, we haven’t been-they’ve been two moves ahead every step of the way. They’ve gotten through too many time. I don’t know-” Matalon again sighed before throwing the cigarette to the ground and crushing it under her toes. “Is he-”

“He’s alive.”

“Good, good.” The Director tugged at her collar as she nodded to her agents, gesturing for them to enter the building.

“This was all arranged wasn’t it? He knew I would’ve called Andrea. He had to. He couldn’t be that much of an idiot.” Miranda turned to look at the warehouse, her thoughts drifting to all the possibilities.

Matalon nodded. “As I said, I doubt he gave you anything he didn’t want you both to have.”

“He gave me exactly what I wanted.” Andy watched as the agent pulled him kicking, screaming and bloody through the doors.

“Oh?” Matalon peered at her through her peripheral.

Miranda hummed in agreement. “They have someone working for them in your organization.”

The Director swung around quickly, her eyes snapping to the editor.

“How-”

“You’ve forgotten that I’m the editor of a multi-billion magazine.” The corner of her lips tugged up, but it was in neither amusement nor joy. It was cold it was calculated. “One doesn’t reach as far as I have and have outmaneuvered countless takeover attempts without being versed in corporate espionage and subterfuge.”

“I know how tight you run your ship.” Andrea turned on her heels, beckoning to Miranda and Matalon to follow as she moved to the waiting SUV. “He knew too much, the only way he could have was if someone was feeding him the information.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. This was getting from bad to worse. “I messaged Serena and told her that we all need to meet now. They’ve arranged for Cristi to go home. Let’s finish this there.”

As she spoke, Miranda gently ran her fingers across her lover’s bruised knuckles. She wasn’t a squeamish person and she wasn’t a stranger to violence. Her childhood was a far cry from a bed of roses, but even she had flinched as Andrea had made her anger known. The editor knew with every fiber of her being that Andrea had been holding back for her benefit.

The aristocrat had murmured how sorry she was and how she hadn’t want to scare her or make her frightened. The sincerity in those eyes, the knowledge that the younger woman was acting in defence of her family set Miranda slightly at ease.

She couldn’t blame her really. When the man had pitifully confessed that he had arranged Azza’s car accident without a care if their baby lived or died, it was all the same to him. It had taken everything, every ounce of her being and self-control not push Andrea out of the way and wail on him.

“We need to end this Andy.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but her lover heard as if she had shouted at the top of her lungs.

The hand that she was stroking flipped and gripped her fingers tightly. “I promise, one way or the other, I’ll protect our family.”

Miranda moved closer and slid down to nestle her face in her lover’s neck as the brunette wrapped her hand around her shoulders.

“I promise.” Andy whispered as she pressed a kiss to the editor’s hair. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What?!” Serena was on her feet in seconds. “What?!”

“Babe calm dow-”

“I’ll not! How the fuck did this happen!?” She started pacing. “We understood the risks, I calculated them, I accounted for all variables…” She muttered to herself as she walked back and forth furiously.

“Not all.” Cristi leaned back on the bed in the makeshift hospital room they had prepared at his villa. He had insisted that he wanted to be a part of the meeting. Though his body was a bit battered and bruised, his mind was clear and he refused to allow them to face whatever this was alone.

“Of course I accounted-Oh.” She stopped and looked over her shoulder. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Nigel leaned forward in his seat.

“You three.”

“What?” Emily frowned.

“I didn’t account for you, Miranda and Nigel. Fuck.”

“Language darling.” Asta murmured absently.

“I think we’re well pass propriety darling.” Malthe stroked his beard as he watched his daughter’s fingers twitch.

“And?” Emily probed.

“The three of us, we could’ve handled whatever they threw at us. Azza and Ducky were under 24-hour watch. Tracking them would’ve been next to impossible, but the if there is a leak, and, and you three. They have more targets and I never…” Her fingers were twitching in earnest now. I sign that her mind was running too fast, too many algorithms and equations, too much chaos and instability. She would crash soon if there was no intervention.

Emily was up in a flash, wrapping her arms around the blonde from behind. She held her tightly, anchoring her to the present as she whispered. “Breathe love. In and out, come on, that’s it.” She murmured, inhaling deeply and exhaling in tandem with her girlfriend.

The room was silent, wide eyed and in awe as they watched the redhead bring Serena back from the precipice. It was always a feat to bring the blonde back when she became lost.

“I-I-”

“Easy now.” Emily soothed until some of the tension eased from the blonde’s shoulders. After a few seconds, Serena cleared her throat and spoke again. “Do they know about the failsafe?”

“Failsafe?” Danari tilted her head in confusion. The thought they knew all there was to know about Serena’s invention, but it was the first time they were hearing of a failsafe.

“I encrypted the nanites with a personal off switch of sorts.”

“We its potential, how much good it could do, how it’d change the world. Medicine, science, engineering, everything; but we’re not naïve to not think of its alternative uses.” Cristi plopped back in his bed with a sigh. “That is what they want it for, this Dark Palm.”

Matalon nodded, the strain around her eyes were even more pronounced that when she had just landed. “They specialize in arms dealing, specifically biological and chemical warfare.”

“If they got their hands on it, they could wipe out cities with just a small cell. If-if they were to get their hands on someone who could adjust the coding, they could infect food and water supplies, starve out nations or-” Serena pressed her fist to her mouth, shaking her head at the thought.

“Or?” Miranda pressed.

“Or, if they were feeling particularly vile, they could code it to attack the human DNA. The nanites would unravel cells and liquefy tissue in a matter of seconds…or hours, depends on how brutal they’d want it to be.”

“Why would you-why would you create something like that!?” Miranda was on her feet, her face as white as her hair.

“Because the pros outweighed the cons Miranda. Think of it, we could reverse the effects of climate change, we could clean the oceans and, and cure cancer or ALS or any other fucking incurable disease. In a few years, we could have actual space travel. There is _so much_ good we can do.”

“But is it worth it when with a flip of a finger it could kill us all?”

Serena scoffed as she turned on her heels. “We are already dying Miranda! We are already killing ourselves! But as I said, we accounted for those possibilities and that’s why I’m the only one who know the algorithms, how to code it. It’s all up here.” She tapped her forefinger against her forehead. “And in case for some reason they-” She cleared her throat before continuing. “I have a personal master code that controls every cluster created. It’ll override any command given or initiate the self-destruct sequence. It’ll never get that far.”

Miranda spun, her eyes frantically searching for Andrea. “Was that what he wanted me to steal? Do they know about it?”

“Steal!?”

“Who!?”

“What?!”

Within seconds, the room was in an uproar as each person tried shouting their questions over each other.

“Hey!” Ainslie was on her feet, banging a book against the coffee table that sounded across the room like a bomb. “For God’s sake, let them speak.”

“A package was sent to Runway a few days ago. That _bastard_ , he had, he had pictures of us. Of all of us. In the apartment, at work…the children at school. He said that if I didn’t do as he said, if I didn’t steal something from Serena, he would…” She took a moment to swallow. “He would hurt the children, hurt us, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t. So I told Andrea.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Thank God because if I had, if I had…my God.” She ran her hand across her face.

Nigel stared at Miranda in disbelief. He had never seen the editor so flustered, so weary. He looked over and watched as Andy stared down at his friend. The woman looked lost. She looked guilty. He could see the regret in her eyes. Regret that they all had been drawn into this mess. Regret that real danger was hanging over their heads.

He could see the moment when the brunette eyes hardened and she took a deep fortifying breath. He recognized the look. It was the look of misguided self-sacrifice. She was about to do something well and truly idiotic and he couldn’t let it happen. Not now. Not ever. Not when they were supposed to be leaning on each other, fighting together. He was on his feet in seconds.

“Andy!” He yelled, drawing the eyes of the room. “Don’t.” He whispered when her eyes met his.

“Don’t what?” Miranda frowned and turned to her lover. “Don’t what?”

_‘Don’t.’_ he mouthed once more with a shake of his head. His eyes conveying what his words could not. _‘Don’t abandon her now out of some misguided attempt at protecting her, because that is how she will see it, as abandonment, as betrayal. So don’t.’_

Andy’s mouth clamped shut. The words disappearing on the tip of her tongue. She looked down at the confusion in Miranda’s face, but also at the blatant trust there. A trust she couldn’t betray. Not now, not ever.

She looked back at Nigel, giving him a quick grateful nod before offering Miranda a tired, yet affectionate smile. The editor frowned even as Andy pressed a kiss to her furrowed brows and then to her pursed lips. “Easy love.”

“What are we to do now?” Richard broke though the silence with a frustrated sigh.

“Dubai.”

“Dubai.”

“Dubai.”

Serena, Cristi and Andy answered in unison. Their jaws were set and their eyes focused and determined.

Matalon groaned, wishing at that very moment that she had a lit cigarette.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The plan was simple, or as simple as it could be considering everything that weighed in the balance. The Runway team had been invited to bask in the luxury, decadence and all the haute couture that the United Arab Emirates had to offer in a highly anticipated fashion weekend that sought to dethrone Paris in its display of excellence.

It was no surprise how beautiful the city was, as was expected from a place renowned for its luxury, ultramodern architecture and sinful nightlife.

They arrived separately. Miranda, Emily and Nigel took the company Jet straight from Paris after they were snuck out of Monaco in the dead of night; then they were smuggled to the Van Visser Villa.

To the outside world, all seemed to be well with Europe’s darlings. Andy, Serena and Cristi, after his insistence to go, would arrive two days later in preparation for their unveiling. The world would be watching with buzzing excitement to see what Riot Club had been keeping secret for so long.

To the outside world, the faces of Runway and the Riot Club were calm, cool and collected and yet to each other and to those who knew them best, there was a subtle shift in their countenance.

A strain.

A nervous uneasiness.

Something was brewing.

Andy leaned back against the headrest in the town car. Her eyes stared unseeing though the window as the skyline lit as far as the eyes could see. Serena and Cristi too were lost in their own worlds. Minds drifting to everything and nothing. Silence reigned, though in its benevolence it offered them an easy comfort.

A gentle buzzing from her pocket broke the brunette from her musings.

“Hmmm.” She hummed in greeting. There was no sound save for the low hum of deep breathing. “Let me hear your voice Priestly.” She murmured.

“I worry.”

“I know.”

“It’s only been three days.”

“I know.”

“But I, I miss you.”

A slow smile tugged at her lips. “I know that too.”

Miranda released a huff at the words. “I’m hanging up now.”

“No you’re not.”

“Oh? And why’s that?”

“Cuz how else would I tell you that I miss you too?”

“Oh, well.” Miranda sniffed. “I suppose that’s good a reason as any.”

Andy laughed lowly. “I thought so too.”

Silence descended around them once more. The two content in listening to the other breathe.

“Let’s take the children and go away for a little after this is over.”

“Yes.” Miranda barely gave her a moment to finish.

Andy smiled to herself. “I haven’t told you where.”

“I don’t care.”

“What about Run-”

“I don’t care. The magazine will survive a little while without me.”

“Oh? What if your boss hears how you’re no longer indispensable?”

“I never said that.” She sniffed once more, but Andy heard the amusement. “But I’m not worried.”

“Is that so?”

Miranda hummed. “Yes, I have a certain sway over her.”

The brunette’s brows raised. “Should I be jealous?”

“Most certainly.”

“You’re a cruel one Miranda Priestly.”

“Yes and if you don’t come back to me in one piece you’ll see how cruel I can be.”

Andy closed her eyes as she pressed the phone closer to her ear. “Aye My Lady.”

“Right, yes, right then. I love you.” She rushed out before hanging up the phone.

Andy peeked out of one eye to see if her lover really hung up, a light huff of laughter on her lips. Within seconds, the phone buzzed once more.

“Forget something?” she whispered.

“Say it back.”

“I love you Miranda.” She murmured without hesitation.

There was brief moment of silence as a tense breath was released then the tell-tale click of the call ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. – B.S.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo.....it's been a minute. I know this should have been posted ages ago and I deeply apologize for the wait. You'll all be happy to know that this is the final chapter, only an epilogue outstanding and I won't have you wait for too long.
> 
> Thank you all for your concerns about where I disappeared to. Life has just been so busy I haven't had the time to even focus on anything else.
> 
> Please keep your comments coming. I do look forward to reading your little epistles.
> 
> So without further delay....

Miranda’s hands clenched, her eyes strained under her signature Prada sunglasses. She wanted to be anywhere but here, a first for the Fashion maven. She wanted her children….she wanted her lover…she just wanted her family to be safe. Was that too much to ask for? She watched as model after model gracefully moved down the catwalk, flares of colour and designs that on any other occasion would have garnered the slight tilt of her lips that signaled success and herald international fame and recognition.

Now? She could barely muster the will not to purse her lips. Those around her would assume it was disappointment at the designer. An unfortunate conclusion considering the woman had great potential, potential that would take her straight to the top with Miranda’s guidance.

The editor sighed to herself as she made a mental note to release a statement. Business was business and her distraction and bad mood shouldn’t blight someone’s future, especially when they clearly deserved it.

She turned to whisper the sentiment to Nigel and Emily, but the words died on her lips when she saw her a manifestation of her emotions reflected on their faces. She was almost positive that in the minutes she had been watching them Emily hadn’t blinked once. The strain around her eyes screamed her frustration and Nigel…well Nigel was coiled so tight the poor man looked as if he were about to sprain something with the smallest movement.

“This was a mistake.” Emily finally spoke. “We should- we have to head back. We- we need to, I-”

“We can’t.” Miranda found her voice, her throat burned with the strain of keeping herself in check. “You know the plan. We have-”

“Stay here while they go off into god knows what.” Nigel scoffed. He knew they hated this ridiculous plan just as much as he did. This morning, he had gotten up before the sun rose, sitting up in bed and watching the steady breathing of his lover. He watched the way the Spaniard’s hair brushed over his forehead, tickling at his cheek. How he would breathe deeply then release a little huff through his lips.

Cristi’s brows had furrowed and his legs twitched as he murmured lowly. Nigel recognized the signs. His lover was trapped in a nightmare. With quick thinking, the fashion editor slid closer before running a hand gently through Cristi’s soft curls, murmuring sweet nothings in his ear, coaxing him from whatever torment held him. Within seconds, Cristi’s brows relaxed, his body that had tightened under the strain of it loosened as he leaned into Nigel’s touch, seeking comfort even in dreams.

They had to stay to keep up appearances; no one could have the slightest whiff that something was off. Nigel caught the eyes of one of the many guards stationed in the room. The man was dressed as a photographer but the Fashion Director had recognized him from the pictures at their briefing earlier.

The trio had ensured that ATLAS guarded their families with a ferocity that rivaled Fort Knox. A team of armed agents had moved the children and their parents to an undisclosed location in the wee hours of the morning.

Miranda had barely held back the tears as Azza had screamed for her as they took him away. He had taken to calling her ‘Mummy’ substituting it for his favorite ‘Fairy Queen.’ Every time he called for her, her heart skipped in unaltered joy…but hearing the gut wrenching sound that tore from him as he attempted to wiggle from his guard plummeted it straight to her feet.

Cassidy, Caroline and Charles had hugged them with a surprising strength, it was wonder how they had gotten them off and unto the waiting Chopper.

Shaking the thoughts from weighing her down, she turned to Nigel and Emily. “An hour. We just need to sit here for an hour. That’s all they asked of us so we will do, no matter how _much_ we hate it.”

The two nodded in agreement before turning back to the show, watching with unseeing eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Andy watched as reporters flashed their cameras as the trio took to the stage. She stared down from the podium unflinchingly, after spending her entire life in front of the camera; her eyes no longer squinted under the assault of flashes. Serena stood to her right and Cristi to her left. The man had insisted that he be up there with them, even though he was currently balancing himself on crutches.

He hadn’t wanted to stay behind or sit in the crowd while his sisters were putting themselves in danger. They were a team and that was that.

He caught Matalon’s eyes, giving her a subtle nod. The games were about to begin and they had every intention of coming out on top. If only because Nigel would kill him if he died.

A smile tugged at his lips as he thought of the older man. He had every intention of getting back to him. Maybe he could whisk him away for a week or so, he thought. He had a villa in Greece, one that overlooked the Santorini shores. He knew Nigel would adore it and he couldn’t wait to see his face when he saw the crystal blues and beautiful emeralds of the beach. He was already making plans and as soon as this was over, he would have his assistants make the arrangements.

Serena watched from her peripheral as her brother shifted his weight from one crutch to the other. She saw the subtle wince and again wondered why they hadn’t just locked him in his room when he had insisted on coming.

They really were too stubborn for their own good sometimes.

She listened as Andy started her introductory speech. She would begin by thanking everyone who played a role in development, and then she would unveil the Nanites to the world for the first time. After she would speed through the bureaucratic necessities, then hand over the presentation to Serena who as the creator would give a detailed run through before demonstrating the scope of its abilities. Cristobal would then speak on the humanitarian aid efforts their new tech would be use in and the impact it would have on their eco relief plans.

It was all rather straightforward. Stripped of all fanfare, the presentation was to the point while highlighting all the important points they wanted out.

Serena found herself lost in thought. Her mind no longer on her invention but instead focused on flaming red and an adorable English accent…and….and Florence. Yes…she would take Emily there as soon as they could. They would hold hands and walk down the same streets where Serena had fell completely and utterly in love with her all those years ago.

They would lose themselves in the beauty and the memories of it all and when Serena was pushed to the edge and unable to keep it in anymore, she would take her lover into her arms, look deep into her gorgeous eyes and slip the ring she had been carrying around for over a month unto her redhead’s finger.

She found herself smiling at the possibilities. So lost in thought she was that she almost missed her que. With a quick clear of her throat, she nodded to Andy before taking the podium.

~~~~~~~~~~

Hunter was damn good at her job. She knew it and Matalon knew it, but she was still new. Although she had spent years in the Army, she was still considered the ‘fresh faced’ rookie to their weary hardened veteran. That’s why it came as such a surprise when the Director had pulled her aside and told her that there was a breach in their security. A mole had burrowed itself in their ranks and she and Meyer were the only persons she told.

It was unacceptable.

Hunter had found herself matching the anger that radiated off her Director, but still, she was very much confused. Why not tell the senior officers? Why her? She could easily be the mole, she had only been at the agency less than a year and promoted barely two months ago. When she had voiced this, Matalon had given her that secret half smile, the one that made her seem as though she saw and knew all.

“You’re not.” She had said simply, but with so much conviction that it left Hunter startled.

She could only nod in agreement as a sigh of relief rushed through her. Good, that was good.

Now she stood scanning the perimeter, directing her team to their post and checking in with the other team leaders. This was a bad idea she could feel it. When Matalon had first told her, before she could even speak the Director had cut in, “I know, this is a shit idea, believe me, I know.” Then she sighed a deep bone weary sigh that left even the blonde tired already.

“Just keep your eyes open and your ears to the ground.” And with a nod, the Director was off to do god knows what. So here she stood, doing just that.

Checking her watch, she was barely able to hold herself up as something knocked into her knees.

“Oh damn, I’m so sorry.” A voice squeaked behind her. His American accent was distinct.

She turned to see man looking up at her with an impish smile; he looked to be somewhere in his early thirties.

“Wheel got away from me.” He gestured to his wheelchair. “You’re not hurt are you?” He frowned as he looked at her legs, searching for any sign of injury.

“Don’t even worry about it.” She waved away his worry as she smiled down at him. “Need help finding a spot?”

“Nah.” He grinned, “I have a reserved area down by the front so I’m good.”

“Oh great, “I’ll leave you to it then.”

With a parting smile, he was off again, but not before throwing over his shoulder. “Sorry again.”

“Don’t mention it.”

When he was no longer in sight, her smile fell.

“Meyer.” She whispered into her conn.

“Secured channel confirmed.”

“What are you seeing?”

“A whole lot of nothing I’m afraid.”

“I can’t decide if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”

“All chatter out of Berlin has stopped. All our contacts reported radio silence, so I’m definitely leaning to ‘a bad thing.’”

“Fuck me.”

When Meyer made no comment at her words, she realized the extent of her operator’s worry. “Something not right Evie.”

Hunter closed her eyes, her jaws clenched at the name Meyer used. The operator had forgone professionalism.

Shit.

“It’ll be fine Dali.” She whispered back. “Don’t worry, the place is crawling with our people and Matalon is close to finding the rat bastard who’s selling us out.”

“Right…right. Okay.” She took a deep breath. “I’ll keep you posted on any changes Agent Hunter.”

“Thank you Agent Meyer.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally.

It was over.

Miranda sighed as she tugged off her coat and threw it over the back of the couch. Nigel and Emily shuffled in not far behind. The trio moved to the screening room, intent on watching the broadcast of their other halves as they made their presentation for the world to see.

Every major news network was filming the revolutionary moment for science. The reporter droned on and on before allowing the viewers to hear the trio speak.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Serena concluded her speech and the crowd was left in awe. For the demonstration, the Scientist had taken a knife and sliced her palm deep and long. The crowd had gasped and recoiled but the blonde hadn’t even flinched. Instead, she reached for a syringe and plunged the needle into her forearm. She then moved her hand to the microscope one of her lab techs had rolled out. Within seconds, the world watched on the massive projectors behind them as the wound knitted itself until it was completely closed, not even a scar in sight.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you…our future.”

The crowd was on their feet in moments, yelling at the top of their lungs, questions after questions shot at them. Serena watched them before turning on her heels, handing the podium to Cristi with a nod before standing beside Andy.

“I know you all have questions but let…”

~~~~~~~~~~

Hunter found herself whistling lowly. Well damn. Hearing the theory of it was one thing, but to actually see it in person? Impressed would be the understatement of the century.

“That was something huh.” Dougal moved to her side. “Can’t say that I’m surprised though. Those three have always been a step ahead.”

She hummed. Her eyes still focused on the stage.

“Can’t say I blame em for tryin’ to get their hands on this. Magine whoever had that sort of tech would unstoppable….not to mention richer than god.” He mused.

She frowned, shooting him a look from her peripheral.

When he saw it, he laughed. “Good thing we’re protecting those lil rascals eh. Keep em’ safe so they can save the world.” He grinned as he bumped her shoulders.

“My sentiments.” She smiled before turning to watch Cristobal speak.

“Anyways, I’m going back ta ma post.” He winked before he made his way across the room.

Hunter watched him go with a frown before shaking her head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He watched his targets as he made his way through the crowd. The weapon in his waist burned…or maybe it was his conscience? No worries, as soon as he finished his assignment, it’d pass, he tried convincing himself. He tugged at his tie, loosening the knot slightly and unfastening the first two buttons.

He knew the risks and he knew what was at stake. His eyes narrowed with determination as he approached the stage. His employers had arranged for an extraction for him, and so he didn’t worry about the fall out.

It was too late to stop what was already set in motion. Might as well give it his all.

He took a deep breath as his fingers shadowed the trigger, the only thing he needed to do was pull it out.

Pull it out and get the job done.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead and moved closer.

It was show time.

~~~~~~~~~

Andy found herself smiling in earnest at the sincerity which Cristi spoke. He moved from Climate change, to world hunger to medical advancement with such fire that all who listened felt compelled to take on the fight with them.

She even found herself releasing a huff of laughter as her brother joked with the audience, charming them into pliancy. Even Serena grinned with a shake of her head at his wit.

Andy, still engaged with Cristi’s speech found her attention caught at the sight of Dougal approaching the stage from the side. Frowning, she wondered for a split second if something had happened to Miranda before her eyes widened as he pulled his sidearm form his waist.

“Gun!” She screamed before pushing Serena to the ground.

She felt the first pierce from the Berretta 92Fs hit her abdomen, slamming into her with such force that she could barely grab a stunned Cristi by the scruff of his neck. She pulled him behind her with such a force that his crutches scattered across the stage.

She heard four more explosions but her vision blurred, she could barely see through the haze of pain that left her drenched in sweat. She crumbled to her knees, gasping. She couldn’t breathe. She needed to breathe…but her throat felt like it was closing under the strain.

Matalon was up before the first shot fired; by the second, she had put two holes in the person she had once considered a great friend. By the fourth, she had put one between his eyes.

Around her people screamed and threw themselves to floor. Other trampled each other trying to get out of the arena. Only her agents raced towards to gunfire.

“We need a medic!” She screamed as she scrambled to the stage. Andy was clutching at her chest before crumpling unto her back. “I need a medic _now_!!”

Within seconds, Serena was over her sister. Her face was stoic and calm, but inside she was screaming at the top of her lungs. “We need to start compressions, she’s not breathings.” She pulled off her jacket and handed to Cristi. “Press this on the wounds; we need to slow the bleeding. The man had paled, turning an ashen grey. “Cristobal! Move!”

The Spaniard scrambled to wounds in her stomach, he could see that there was one more in her shoulder and another in her chest. “Oh God…” his voice broke. The bullet wound was a mess, as if she'd been hit with two different kinds of weapon at once. There was the usual dark red holes that oozed thickly, but also hundreds of different tiny wounds – like shrapnel.

“Come on Andy breathe!” Serena muttered as she performed CPR on her sister. Their hands were drenched in crimson. “Breathe dammit!”

~~~~~~~~~~

Hunter could barely breathe.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” She scrambled to the front of the room.

“Hunter!”

“Not now Meyer.” She hissed. “I should have known, I should have seen it! Fuck!”

“Hunter!”

“What?!”

“We have a situation.” She snapped.

She looked around her. “You think?”

“No! Not that!”

“The guy in the wheelchair.”

“What of him?”

“He was walking this morning.”

She jerked back in surprise. Her stomach plummeted. “What?” She hissed.

“My database picked up a hit off his face. He’s-”

She scanned the front row and there in all it’s shining glory…an empty wheelchair.

“Why would he-” Her eyes widened. The pieces began falling into place. She knew this tactic, she’d seen it enough time in warzones she’d been stationed. Hunter's hands began to shake slightly and her mind blanked for all of a few seconds before she found her voice. “Fuck! Everybody do-”

The explosion rent the air as if it was intent on shattering the universe by ripping apart every atom. Her words ripped away under the concussive force that tore through the arena. The earth shook around them; heat, screams and falling debris brought her to her knees.

Serena threw herself over her sister as the blast rocked. Cristi was barely able to find purchase and the shock wave and flames sent him flying across the stage and right into the wall. He slumped forward unmoving.

Andy had coughed up splattering of blood, she knew she was losing the blood from her lungs, but she had looked through blurry eyes to see Serena with blood pouring from her hairline screaming at Matalon to check on Cristi,

What a fuck mess, honestly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’ve been hit!” Hunter shook her head to get the ringing from her ears as she wiped the concrete dust and soot from her eyes. She had only just managed to crawl unto the stage as Matalon had yelled for to stay with Serena and Andy while she made sure Cristi was still breathing.

“I know.” Serena gritted but pushed through the pain searing her right shoulder. “but I’m not stopping.”

“I never expected you to.”

Beneath then Andy whimpered, her consciousness struggling to find purchase…but her eyelids felt too heavy…her limbs felt like lead. She tried speaking but the words were a strangled gasp for air, her lips tasted like copper. Each breathe was more pain than it was worth and she felt herself slowly losing the fight to pull in and push out.

Fear gripped her so fiercely it would left her breathless, if she had the breath to spare. Fear for her babies…fear for her family…fear for Miranda. She didn’t want to leave her. She couldn’t leave her alone. Miranda would never forgive her.

“That’s it Andy, that’s it. Breathe.”

“Ma-man…da…” She gurgled.

“Oh thank God! Hang on Andy listen to my voice. Miranda is safe, just stay with me okay.” 

Blood shot amber eyes flickered unseeing. “Mu-mum…ple…mum…” Tears ran down her face, leaving lines where the soot and dust was washed away.

Serena felt her eyes well at the sound of her sister crying for her mother. She couldn’t imagine the extent of the pain she must be feeling.

“He’s breathing!” She heard Matalon yell and just for a moment relief washed over her before the feel of Andy’s blood on her hands brought her back. “Where’s the _fucking_ medic!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miranda, Emily and Nigel sat frozen after the first shot rang out. The camera diligently stayed in position, capturing every horrifying detail. The reporters scrambled about, shouting over the mics but their eyes were fixed on the images before them.

Emily’s cellphone had slipped form her grip, clanging to the floor as her hands flew to her mouth in shock. Her knees gave out and she fell to the floor, pulling her knees up to her chest as her hands shook uncontrollably.

Miranda hadn’t moved. Her eyes were strained; her fingers gripped the armrest of her chair with a deadly hold. She could barely breathe much less move, everything felt so close yet so far away.

_‘No, no, no….this was a bad dream….a nightmare, yes. That’s what it was. She just needed to wake up. Wake up Miranda! Wake up!’_

Nigel ran to the door, but two guards blocked his exit. “Get the fuck out of my way!” He tried pushing pass them.

“I’m afraid we can’t Mr. Kipling. We have orders.”

“From who!”

The agent looked at him, his eyes sorrowful but the words were clear. ‘ _You know who,_ ’ they screamed.

“We can’t allow any of you to leave. The premise is under full tactical lock down. No one in or out.”

“You can’t-you can’t-” He dove at the man, screaming with all his might, tears pouring down his face. Still they wouldn’t let him pass.

“I’m-I’m so sorry.” The guard whispered.

Then he heard it. The sound of the earth shaking and concrete collapsing, but it was the strangled cry of Miranda that did him in. He scrambled back into the room, his eyes riveted as the flat screen flashed images of screaming emergency vehicles barreling down the road and people covered in dust and soot stumbling from the arena. Some barely able to stand.

Within moments a reporter who’s face was white with durst and bleeding from minor cuts on her face spoke into the camera frantically. "Again, we have confirmed that a bomb just exploded at the Dubai Municipality Conference Center and Arena. We have no information on who the Bomber might be as no organization has taken responsibility. We also have no word on the number of casualties or on the status of Lady Andrea Sachs of Westminster who received multiple gunshot wounds before the bomb was triggered. Emergency personnel are now on the scene working to get to the injured but as you can see part of the ceiling has collapsed… ”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Serena cradled Andy’s head in her lap, wincing at the bruises forming on the left side of her forehead. She had done everything to shield Andy, but she could only do so much and blast had found a way around. Andy’s breathing was labored and she knew with a certainty that ribs had been broken.

Her eyes scanned her sister, assessing and trying to catalogue all the damage she could see with her naked eye. Again she winced as she moved her leg, a jagged piece of shrapnel protrude from her thigh, a little higher, and a little to the left and she would have bled out over her sister.

She shook her head, what a fucking mess.

The ringing still rattled Hunter, but she had learned earlier on to push pass it. To focus on a single object and ignore the fact that her head felt like it was cracking open. That was how she noticed them. The bright orange of their uniform as they raced to the stage.

Finally.

The medics had arrived.

Within moments they had moved the brunette, strapped her down and hooked her up to an IV and oxygen to provide needed fluids and much needed air, and then hauled out; a blanket covered nearly all of her. She was in the ambulance not long after.

Against her protests, the medics had in the back of another, Hunter right beside her. “You’re going to be okay.” The agent murmured.

_‘What?_ ’ she thought. _‘I’m fine_.’ Her eyes were drooping. ‘ _Just a little tired is all._ ’

“She’s lost so much blood.” She heard someone….someone far away yell. “We need to-”

Her eyes slid close, she just needed to take a little nap…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The trauma center for King’s College hospital was bursting at the seams and they were the only hospital were patients had been dispatched. However, when the personal guest of the Emir entered the trauma center, bloodied, broken and battered. The doctors and nurses who was already elbow deep in trauma caught their second wind.

Within minutes, they were assessed. Andy and Serena with the usual protocol that associated with GSW’s and an improvised explosive device (IED) that had utilized a high order explosive yet to be specifically identified.

Cristobal had come to as they wheeled him through the doors and was treated for a major concussion, multiple deep lacerations and his previously injured ribs and leg…well any progress that was made had been shot to hell.

Andy had been stripped of her contaminated clothes and a breathing tube inserted to inflate her collapsing lung. She was then hooked to various machines that monitored her heart rate, brain activity and the degree at which her blood was delivering oxygen. The nurses and doctors worked diligently to assess her injuries and clean away the blood, grime and soot that coated her body like a second skin.

She had coded twice since she was brought in, both times, they were barely able to bring her back from the edge of the abyss. When they finally stabilized her, they moved with an urgency, quickly wheeling her into the OR…now only time would tell as they say.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The chopper was in the air.

Danari was shaking in her chair; even as Asta held her tightly, her body could not stop shaking. The Richard and Armand were somber, but they could hardly keep it together, especially when they saw Malthe curled in on himself, tears slipping down his cheeks.

Ainslie held him as he cried.

Their guards had been given orders to keep them put but one look from raging aristocrats was all it took for them to relent.

The children were still secured and the guard are keeping them away from TVs and social media. They didn’t want them finding out like that, but none had been brave enough to tell them. So they waited. Waited until they would be able to tell them good news. They refused to think of there being any other.

~~~~~~~~~

Miranda stormed into the hospital. Their guards had no power against the infuriated trio who threated to burn the house down if they weren’t released.

At first, the agents had thought they were bluffing, but then the slightly unhinged glimmer in the redhead’s eyes had them all drawing back. Okay, so maybe they weren’t bluffing.

And so here they were, standing in a hospital that resembled a warzone rather than a place that promised treatment and healing. No one had the time to stop and answer the questions of the trio who were seemingly unharmed. It wasn’t until there was breathing of fire and promises of bloody murder if their questions weren’t answered that action was taken.

After their identities were confirmed, a resident trauma surgeon led them down a corridor before turning to them. Her accent heavy and lilting came out in rapid fire. “Lady van Visser is critical but stable. She had a bullet wound to the shoulder and lost a lot of blood, but the surgery and blood transfusion was successful. She’s in recovery right now and should wake up within a few hours.” She fidgeted with her thick glasses before continuing. “Lord Benavente, sustained a major concussion, deep lacerations to the torso, and arms and his ribs and leg re-cracked. He has been treated and is currently under observation to monitor the side effects of the concussion.”

Nigel gripped Serena hand so tightly it would have been painful had not the woman reciprocated with the same intensity. “So they’re okay?”

“It is not for me to say, they’re doctors will speak to you shortly.” When she saw the distress her words had caused she quickly spoke. “But based on their charts, with some time, they’ll make a full recovery.”

“W-what about…what about Andrea?” 

It was the nervous twitching that did Miranda in. “Is she…is she de-” She chocked on the words.

“No!” The woman rushed out. “She isn’t, she isn’t. She’s alive.”

“I want to see her.”

“Lady Sachs is still in surgery.”

“Still!? It’s been almost four hours.”

“There was extensive damage and she, she flat lined twice more in the OR.”

“Oh God.” Emily gasped.

“Twice more?” if not for Nigel’s hands around her, Miranda would have fell to her knees right then. “Her heart stopped _four_ times?”

“The stress on her body right now is, it’s, it’s a lot. Between the GSWs and the force of the blast it’s not…” The white haired lady looked at her with such brokenness and grief that she couldn’t bring herself to tell her that it wasn’t looking good. If the brunette survived the night, it would be a miracle. “She is critical.” She heard herself say. “I will have her doctors come speak with you soon.” She offered them what she hoped was a reassuring smile, before she was off to Emergency Room once more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hours…

Days…

Hell it could be months for all Miranda knew.

Ainsley had burst through the doors some time ago and one look at Miranda had her bursting into tears.

They had arranged for a private suit where Cristobal and Serena would be monitored during their recovery. Emily knew they would want to be close to each other, and when they woke up no one would be able to calm them down until they laid eyes on the other, so this saved the heartache of having to tell them they’d have to wait.

The steady beep of the monitors and low sniffles were the only sound that echoed. The day too emotionally and physically taxing for words.

Thankfully, none was needed. So, there they sat, waiting for some news…any new…that the person they all loved was okay. Then there was a gentle knock and the door swung open.

Two men and one woman in scrubs tentatively entered the room, removing their scrub caps as they neared the family. After introducing themselves, one doctor stepped forward, clearly the senior.

“Lady Sachs is critical…but stable.”

He could hear the sigh of relief in the room.

“She is currently in a medically induced coma and we had to remove a portion of her spleen and apportion of her left kidney…” The sigh of relief was replaced with horrified gasps, but the doctor pushed on. “We have administered medication that bring down the swelling in her brain and we’re monitoring it closely.”

“What if, what if it doesn’t go down?” Richard asked.

“Then, we’d have operate again and remove a part of her skull to alleviate the pressure, something we don’t want to do.”

Before anyone could ask why, the other doctor moved forward and spoke. “Lady Sach’s body has gone through immense strain; we fear that if we bring her back into the OR so soon, her heart might give out.”

The room was so silent, one could hear a pin drop, then a calm, steady e voice softly directed. "What are the full extent of her injuries?"

The doctor began listing them softly starting with the damage from the concussive force to her already fragile body. She was lucky that something a shield most of the blast, she had said. They all turned to the still unconscious Serena, Emily squeezed her lover’s feet in pride and adoration.

She then spoke of the numerous abrasions and lacerations that marred her legs and her face and the deep puncture wound in her arms. The amount of stitched needed to close those were nausea inducing. She spoke of the possibility of infections but that they were monitoring it, then of the hairline fracture of three of her ribs and the complete break of two. One of which had puncture a lung causing the organ to fill with blood. The doctor paused, watching her audience as they listened in horror.

She then moved on to the most horrifying. The four gunshot wounds that tore through her chest and torso. The damage those four little pieces of metal wrought had the doctors fighting for ours for the life of their patient. The abdominal trauma had given them so many close calls that they themselves had started giving up hope.

“She is a fighter, I can tell you that much.” She had said with a little smile of encouragement to the family. “Don’t lose faith yet.”

Miranda started ahead, looking at the doctors but right through them. Her jaw was set and her eyes sharp. She was furious. Furious that someone had dared to do this to her Andrea and seconds away from losing her usual calm.

“She is lucky and we’re doing everything, _everything_ to get her back to you whole. We will continue to induce the coma until her body has time to heal, then we’ll take her off the meds and watch her brain activity. She should wake on her own.”

“Can we see her?” Ainsley’s voice was small. She had just heard things no mother should hear about their child.

“They’ll wheel her in any second now.”

As she spoke, the doors swung open.

Miranda’s knees gave out but Richard caught her before she hit the ground. The gasp was wrenched from her against her will. The tears that had slowly welled as the doctor spoke fell in rivulets.

“My darling…” She moved to the edge of the bed. “…who sis this to you?” She sobbed and her hands ached to reach out and pull the brunette into her arms and never let go.

Her beautiful face was swollen, parts blackened and the other purpled. Gauzes and bandages were wrapped tightly around her. A tube leading her mouth connected to a machine that pumped air, wires were everywhere, connecting Andrea’s body from once machine to another. Her beautiful brown hair lay limp; tubes ran into her bruised arms and under the sheets leading to her midsection.

Unable to bear it any longer, she reached out and trailed her finger against the aristocrat’s hand. She would give anything…everything to hold her in her harms right now. To see those beautiful amber eyes. To see that impish mischievous smile that would morph into one of such aching tenderness that it left Miranda breathless every time she did it.

She slowly curled her finger around one of Andrea’s, watching to see if her lover would wake up, wake up and tell that this was all some elaborate joke. But she knew better.

Dull blue eyes watched the steady rise and fall of Andy’s chest. She was still and frozen as marble. If it weren’t for her slow blinks and the barely contained fury that rolled in her eyes, they wouldn’t have known she was a living being.

She resembled an avenging angel, and havoc on all who crossed her she would wreak with glee and destruction.

Ainsley moved towards her daughter, staring and unable to break the hold of the sight of her baby. “My baby.” She gasped, moving closer. “Mama is here.”

Richard’s bottom lip trembled and he fought his own tears. He had to be strong for his wife, for his grankids and as he watched Miranda, he knew he had to be strong for her. He watched Ainsley sobbed uncontrollably over Andy, horrified at the damage her body had endured. She gently brushed wisps of dark hair from her daughter’s face, mindful of the many injuries that she now bore.

If Matalon hadn’t killed that traitorous bastard, he would have ripped him apart with his own hands. His eyes traced the edges of the purple bruising that seemed to swallow half of his daughter's face. It mingled with another concentration of discoloration that seemed to originate below a large white bandage on her right cheek.

The steady rise and fall of her chest as it moved oxygen in and out gave him comfort. At least she was alive and that’s all that mattered now. He knew his daughter was a fighter, from the moment she had fell and scraped her knee when she was three and he had rushed to pick her up and protect her, she had pushed him away with a little smile. “I’m ‘kay daddy.” She had muttered, then she was off again, climbing god knows what. He had felt his heart seize then and now he would give his titles and all to see her look at him with that mischievous glint and whisper, “I’m okay daddy.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Hours had bled into a day, then one day into two. Cristobal had woken not too long ago and Serena a short while after. The reunion had been bitter sweet as their lovers had thrown themselves at them. Kissing every inch of the exposed faces in relief. At least two of three are on their way down the road to full recovery.

They still waited for signs of progress from Andy. At this point, any news was good news.

Miranda stood vigil by Andy’s bedside. No one was able to get her to move in the slightest inch. Held would freeze over first she had muttered in indignation when Malthe had told her to get some rest.

Cristi laughed from his bed and was about to make a joke Miranda was starting to scare him in the nights when he got up and she just sat there….so still….just…watching. It was if she was scared that if the brunette left her eyesight for more than a second she would disappear with the wind. “You know-” He began but at the same time a frantic, shrill beeping screamed across the room, and they watched in horror as Andy’s begun to shake violently.

“Andy!”

“Andrea!”

Shouts echoed in the room as nurses and doctors rushed through the doors. The quickly moved out of the way, giving the professionals the room they needed to work.

“What’s going on?” Ainsley’s voice grew strangled with very tremor.

“Her BP is bottoming out! Start compressions!”

“We need a Defib stat!” another yelled.

“Not yet. Start compression!”

They worked tirelessly but the beeping only grew angrier, louder.

“Bring the cart, her heart’s not beating!”

"Paddles."

"Charging!"

"Clear!"

At the jerk of Andy’s body, everyone in the room stopped breathing. Bile rose as the shrill sound continued.

Ainsley and Miranda clutched each other fiercely at the sound.

“Dammit Andy, don’t do this.” She heard Cristi muttering behind her. “Fight!”

They charged the units and raised the paddles.

"Paddles."

"Charging!"

"Clear!"

After what felt like torturous hours, it happened.

Finally.

A steady beeping.

The thundering echo that the heart was roaring.

“Oh thank God.” Miranda murmured. “Thank God.” Relief coursed through their bodies as they all held each other, sobbing in pure joy that what might have been was no more.

“She’s stable.” The doctors wiped at their foreheads, anxiety still lacing their bodies. “She’s stable.”

As the others bombarded the doctor with questions after questions. Miranda quietly moved to the bedside and pressed a kiss to Andy forehead whispered the only words that echoed in her.

“Thank you my love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have appreciated the feedback and comments from you all, it makes writing this even more fun, so please definitely keep them coming. – B.S.


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